This Black Lamb
by ChanceXIII
Summary: AU Sometimes life is the question and death is the answer. Raito never understood life until he met death. Eventual L x Raito.
1. Prologue

**This Black Lamb**

**Deathnote AU**

**L x Raito**

Disclaimer: I don not own Deathnote or any of its characters. If I did, Raito and L would still be alive, have hot man-sex together, and Kira would reign supreme. Still not over either death, by the way.

* * *

**Prologue - Chrysalis**

"_Daddy, look at the butterfly!"_

Little sisters were one of the greatest enigmas of life, a seven year old Raito thought, looking at Sayu in the seat beside him. Never-mind that he was too young to know the word or what it meant, Raito understood it so much better than anyone else.

He understood it because he was an enigma, a child so young, yet so terribly smart. At least that's what his teacher had said._ Terribly_. He wasn't sure why it was so terrible to be as smart as he was, but he assumed it was a grown-up thing. There were many of those.

Even as he himself was an enigma though, the world was full of them as well. It had a lot to do with those grown up things again, the ideas that flitted just beyond grasp, that made no sense in a world of black and white. Numbers, Raito understood better than most adults, for all their years and experience, and his lack thereof. Numbers were like the blocks his parents had gotten him for his birthday, like the designs on the curtains or couches around the house, like the routine his father lived by every day. They were patterns, some winding, some long, some complicated, but patterns none the less. They were easy to understand.

As was Japanese, English, Spanish, and all the other languages. A word was a word, it had one or several meanings depending on context, and that was that. The way you arranged the words could change their meaning for better or worse, as could the tone you spoke them in. figures of speech were new rules made up to describe situations or contexts humans found hard to dictate or grasp. In the end, it was a more subtle, flowing, unpredictable pattern, but it was still there. There were still rules to follow, just like with numbers, or science, or sports, or anything else Raito could think of.

Except little sisters.

Looking at her was difficult, because he couldn't decide what shade she was. Was she a dark gray, like when her eyes scrunched when she was crying, or the light, bubbling grays of her gurgling laughter. He couldn't fit her into a shade, and it confused him. She was an enigma.

He didn't know why he had expected her to be different though. People were all the same, a mix of all the shades, some coming to head at certain times, some never brought out to their full potential. It annoyed Raito to think that he was the only person in the world who actually picked a shade and stuck to it. Looking down at his hands, folded neatly in his lap, he held back a small smile at the sight.

White. A perfect, unblemished white.

He had hoped Sayu- the precious baby sister he had wanted and longed for and worked for- would be the same. Maybe not the same brilliant white as him, but a light gray, steady and unblemished with the darker tints that spoke of black, just a sweet little constant that he could lead and teach and maybe love someday.

But as he looked at the back of his parents, he thought he should have known that she would be just like them. Bright flashes of an almost-but-still-not-quite-white when they smiled, dark charcoal gray when they turned down their eyes in just that way that spoke of disappointment. Nebulous streams of middle grays when they were at rest, as they were now. Just like them, just like the rest of them.

So unpredictable, illogical,_ impure_.

He was momentarily torn from his thought by the flash of not quite white from his father when he smiled back at Sayu.

"Yes Sayu, and what a pretty butterfly it is."

No its not, Raito observed. It's Sayu holding her hands up, folding them into a bad imitation of a butterfly's shape. The contours and shades are all wrong, and it isn't pretty at all. It's ugly little toddler hands held up in an ugly shape, and they are all too stupid to see it.

Raito didn't miss the flicker of black when his father glanced back at him, recognizing the look on his face as what most would call worry. Raito didn't understand why his father needed to worry though, he wasn't like them.

He was white. He was pure. He was _perfect_.

* * *

"_Yagami-san, won't you please come inside."_

"_Thank you, Shindou sensei."_

"_Please have a seat."_

_Raito watched his father sit down with visible disinterest, seated in a small chair at the side of the teacher's desk. He knew why the teacher had seen fit to include him, when all the other children had been allowed to go home._

"_Is there a problem, Shindou sensei? With his work, or his behavior? I admit that I'm a bit baffled on the reason for this meeting." Raito could hear the anxiety in his father's voice as plain as day, accompanied by dark, nervous glances at him._

"_No, nothing of the sort, Yagami-san. In fact, I have called you here to discuss some good news, as it were."_

_His father's relief was nearly a scent in the air, pungent and overpowering. Raito felt his stomach turn in disgust and resentment. After all, when had he been anything but perfect?_

"_That's… very good to hear."_

"_Indeed. I called you in here to discuss Raito-chan's test scores and ranking." Don't call me chan. Chan is for children, for inferiors. Don't call me chan, you- "Yagami-san. In a national test, Raito-chan's scores were ranked number one."_

"_W-what? Is this true Raito?"_

_No chan. He would answer. "Yes, father." Despite his father's expression, it had been no surprise to Raito when his scores came back. He had expected nothing less of himself. He had demanded nothing less of himself._

"_This… this is…." Soichiro Yagami was at a loss for words, Raito thought dispassionately. He wondered why. He had never been at a loss for words, ever._

"_Yes, Yagami-san. Further testing revealed that his understanding of math, Japanese, history, and science is all at a high school level. He is as proficient as most adults in all the standard education areas, and has already begun to teach himself basic English. A true prodigy in every term of the word."_

_Raito let himself drift from the conversation at this point, having fulfilled his duty of confirmation to his father. He had heard all that was being said before from his various teachers, in hushed tones of excitement, approval, and pride. As though they were the reason he had risen to such a level, as if they had anything to do with anything._

_They didn't._

_It was only when the excitement died down into something more somber that Raito tuned back in, expecting the meeting to be wrapped up in a timely manner. He found himself surprised, which was shocking enough in itself, when the teacher did not proceed as planned._

"_As wonderful as this is though, Yagami-san, I'm afraid there is an area of concern over Raito-chan I must discuss with you."_

_Soichiro Yagami's confusion was met with his son's, as both turned towards the teacher, silently demanding an explanation. Raito was at a loss, unable to comprehend the idea that he had done something wrong._

"_I am speaking of Raito-chan's social condition." Don't call it condition, whatever it is. Condition sounds so final, like a sickness, a disease ready to eat me alive. Don't call it a condition, you-_

"_I will put this in the most simple terms I can, Yagami-kun. Raito-kun-" Finally, not chan. Still too familiar, but not chan. "-has no friends. He does not play or interact with the other children. In fact, I have not once seen him address any other human being, teacher or student, unless absolutely necessary for some assignment. He constantly isolates himself, showing the beginnings of extreme anti-social behavior."_

_Shut up. Shut up, you stupid sensei. You know nothing. Shut up you stupid-_

"_That would be grounds enough for concern. But there is something that alarms me even more, Yagami-san, on a more personal level. This is your sons total lack of emotion. I have never seen the slightest flicker of anything even resembling feeling in him, and he has absolutely no empathy toward his fellow classmates."_

_He couldn't look at his father._

"_But the most frightening issue for me, Yagami-san, as a teacher, mother, and as a human being, is that I have never once seen him smile."_

_Blank. White. Be blank, be white. Why should he smile? There was no reason to smile. Blank and white and perfect. That's what he was, blank and white and-_

"_I am suggesting immediate introduction into therapy, Yagami-san. I believe it is a matter of utmost importance to Raito-kun's future. I sincerely fear for his mental stability, especially in social situations, if he does not get professional help as soon as possible."_

_He didn't need therapy. He didn't need help. He didn't need this teacher._

"_Otherwise, Yagami-san, I fear your son will grow up to be the text-book definition of a clinical sociopath."_

_He didn't need anyone._

_He was perfect._

* * *

It had all happened so fast. One minute Raito had been sitting in the backseat of the car, thinking about butterflies and ugly little hands and all the stupid, flowing shades.

And the next was a blur of shapes and shrieks and crying until the car stopped spinning. Then he was being dragged from the car by a man in black, a hand clapped over his mouth to keep in the screams that weren't there.

Later he would find out that the men were criminals convicted of murder, and evidence condemning them had been found by the team of police officers his dad was in charge of. They had side swiped their small car, then abducted the family when it had finally stopped spinning. Chief Yagami, his wife, and two young children were now being held hostage at an unknown base.

But all he knew then were figures wearing a black that matched the shades on their eyes. He heard the sound of Sayu wailing, which was starting to make his head hurt. He could hear the terrified, half-there sobs of his mother that she desperately tried to hold back. He could hear the frantic breathes of his father as he held his mother, who had Sayu in her arms, his eyes darting around desperately, looking for any opportunity to escape.

So much fuss. If the kidnappers were going to kill them, they would be dead by now. Raito's father should know that. He's the one that had told Raito all about kidnappers, and cases, and profiling, and anything and everything he knew about crime. No, the kidnappers wanted them alive, likely trying to ransom them for a pardon of some sort.

Raito could have told them that wasn't how the justice system worked. It could go one of three ways. Either the police would ignore the threats, which would leave the small possibility of them actually being killed, if the kidnappers had the balls to add more deaths to their jail sentence. The second option would be for the government to promise pardons, receive the hostages, then throw the criminals in the can anyway. Personally, Raito was betting on the third option.

That is, the police take a little while, possibly a few days, locate the base, and storm it, rescuing the hostages and capturing the kidnappers. There was always the possibility of a casualty with such an operations, but it was cleanest in political aspects. It made the police look good, as they had bravely risked their lives to save on of their own and his family, rather than abandoning them to their fate. It also made the government look good, as it was perceived as strong to not give into the demands of criminals, and honest as it didn't go back on its word. All and all, a win-win situation for all, except the criminals that is.

It didn't bother Raito. Justice was always a bitch to the unjust.

* * *

"_Hello there, Raito-kun! My name is Dr. Mitler, it's very nice to meet you."_

_Great, a foreigner._

_Raito was at his first therapy session, thanks to that know nothing teacher's suggestion. His father had taken it very seriously, willing to pay for the best shrink they could find on short notice. Which brought them to this stupid, perky, blonde foreigner who was really trying too hard to get Raito to like her._

_Still, agreeing to at least come to the therapy session was better than staying at home with his mother and father. Ever since the meeting, they had been watching him so closely, looking for something they weren't going to see. Because Raito was perfect, and that's all they were going to see._

_But somehow, it seemed, that had worried them. Resulting his presence here, in this supposedly cozy room, in the way too soft for comfort chair, with the trying too hard foreigner._

_After introducing herself to Raito's father and seeing him out for their hour of "private time," the therapist turned her attention to Raito._

"_I must admit young man, I was very impressed when I read your file earlier. You're quite the prodigy it seems, and I was very honored that your father chose to come to me for help. It's not every day I get to speak to a genius!"_

_Raito couldn't imagine why._

"_So, in light of what I've learned about you, I feel it would be best if we just talked to each other for this session, like two mature adults. Now Raito-kun, is there anything you'd like to get off your chest? Just pick a topic, any topic, whether it be school or home or your favorite television show."_

_She looked to eager, sitting there, a clipboard on her lap and a pen in her hands, leaning forward so as not to miss a single word that came out of Raito's mouth. Like a little puppy. No, scratch that._

_Like a pathetic dog._

"_Just think of me as your friend Raito-kun, someone you can confide in. As you know, the papers you signed earlier mean that I can reveal nothing that is said in this session without your consent. So you don't have to worry, just say whatever is on your mind!"_

_Raito said nothing._

_One minute stretched into two, two into five, five into ten. At the eleven minute mark, her smile a bi more strained, the therapist finally broke._

"_Alright, I see you're not really in the mood to talk right now. So how about this, I'll talk and you'll just listen, and can feel free to jump in whenever you like, alright? So, I was watching the news last night an-"_

"_No." Raito spoke for the first time._

"_What?"_

"_I said no. You asked if it was alright for you to talk and me to listen, and I said no."_

_Frustration was leaking out the corners of the therapist's too friendly face. "Well, Raito-kun, if you're not going to talk, it's only natural for me to do so instead."_

"_Ignoring the fact that this therapy session is supposed to be about what's on my mind, not yours, you did ask whether or not I was alright with it. And I answered. No. No I am not alright with it."_

"_And why not?"_

"_Because you have nothing to say that I want to listen to."_

_The rest of the hour was spent in silence._

_They did not schedule another session._

* * *

They had been sitting there for hours, in the small, unremarkable room, one of the men in black pacing back and forth, a large automatic gun in his hands. His father was still against the wall to Raito's left, clutching his mother and sister desperately and glancing at Raito every once in a while, to confirm he was still alive.

He shouldn't have bothered. Despite the fact that they had managed to calm Sayu down a bit, her and his mother were still in worse shape then him. Then again, neither of them had ever considered being involved in such a… such a….

Predicament, Raito decided. Yes, that was it. A nice, clean description with no positive or negative connotations attached. They were all in quite a predicament.

And Raito was the only one that had managed to keep his cool. A bit sad, when he thought about it. Which he had been doing, for the last few hours, since he doubted the kidnapper would let them play tic-tac-toe or any other trite little game used to pass the time. And Raito had already counted everything he could count in the room. One kidnapper. Four hostages. Three adults. Two children. Two girls. Three boys. Four idiots. One genius….

Never letting one's mind rest could get really tedious sometimes. It made everything so boring.

The kidnappers ever increasing state of agitation was mildly amusing however, Raito couldn't help but think. The more time passed, the more likely a raid, the increased odds of capture and the dropping chances of escape. Raito knew it. And the kidnapper was starting to realize it as well. But still, he continued pacing back and forth, gambling on a hope that was never there to begin with.

Emotions were odd things. Why did humans have them, when they were capable of logic and reasoning? To be sure, animals needed them, simply as a means of instinct that kept them alive. But if humans could simply see the world as Raito did, in all its different shades, surely they'd see the undeniable truth behind his view of the world? A world without emotion… wouldn't that be ideal?

What was the point of emotion anyway?

A resounding rumble was the only indication of the explosion a few hallways away. It seemed rescue was finally on its way.

The kidnapper had frozen, confused for mere moments before panic set in. Didn't the idiot realize he'd have a better chance of escaping if he stayed calm? Whatever, it wasn't like it mattered to him. In any moment, the man would run out the door in a last ditch effort to escape, leaving them free to escape to safety. It was basic flight instinct.

He hadn't bargained on the kidnappers aggressive nature steering him more toward the fight side of the equation.

Ignoring the three huddled together, the kidnapper immediately turned toward Raito, hauling him up by one arm and shoving the barrel of a gun against his head. Raito froze, startled at his miscalculation, before beginning to shake for some inexplicable reason.

Was he… afraid?

The kidnapper was in dire straights and had killed before. The barrel of a gun was pressed against his head, the wielder of said gun growing more frantic and illogical by the second. He could hear his mothers cries and sobs and his father desperate pleas from the other side of the room.

There was a strong possibility he was going to die within the next few minutes.

God help him… he was afraid.

He could practically feel the light dying out in him, a dark cloud of gray slowly overtaking the pure white. He could feel adrenaline running through him, coming out in short, sporadic jerks of his limbs. Was this… what everyone else felt, all the time? Was this the rush of grays that made up their bodies, flowing over them like a never ending cycle? Was this emotion?

Raito heard a shot, and for a moment, thought he was dead.

Then he was dragged down by the still unrelenting grip on his wrist, falling on a warm body, his hand hitting the kidnappers wet chest.

…Wet?

Looking down, for the first time ever, Raito's perception was assaulted by color.

Red, he identified. The color was red. The red of the man's blood as it leaked out the bullet hole in his chest. The chest Raito's hand was pressed against. The hand slowly being covered by the wet, blinding red liquid bubbling forth. And that's when Raito saw it, amongst the endless outpouring of red.

A butterfly. Soaked into the mans shirt in his red blood, was a butterfly.

The man was dead. But Raito was alive. He could feel it. He was alive and he could feel it.

But best of all, he could see the butterfly.

He looked up, seeing the scared, horrified, but relieved expressions on his families face. As well as the police officer that had just come in, a gun in hand, undoubtedly the one that had shot the man beneath Raito.

Raito looked down, freeing his hand, and placing it on the man's chest with the other. One spread hand on each side of the blood stain. One hand on either butterfly wing.

Raito smiled.

"_Daddy, look at the butterfly!"_

* * *

**A/N:** Alright! The prologue is typed and I didn't make it twenty pages long or take a month to type it! YES! (People, this is an accomplishment for me.)

Anyway, I know I sort of broke my code about "not starting another fic until I finish one," but the idea just came to me and I felt the need to write it. Then, once I was done, I felt the need to post it. So bite me. I just felt the need, okay?

This is obviously going to be an AU fic, and Raito-centric, because Raito is my baby. I love the perfectly deranged little bastard, and literally cried when he died at the end. I thought he should live to rule over the new world he created. That's how much a love him.

And the story should start to pick up in the next few chapters, and believe me, its gonna be WEIRD! Total AU version of the Kira story, believe me. But Raito and L will end up together in the end, because they were meant to be together. That's just the way it is people, they are, in fact, kismet. And Raito is the uke, I don't care what anyone says. Why?

Cause he's shorter, younger, and cuter than L, that's why. And is also a manipulative little bastard, which would be enough reason to make him uke without the others.

And while I don't demand them before continuing a story… I love reviews, and would probably type up the next chapter faster if I get some. I don't care whether they are good or bad, I'm always open to constructive criticism. And flames make me giggle. Don't ask.

Anyway, til next time!

P.S. I would dearly love a beta if someone knows a good one.


	2. Chapter 1

**This Black Lamb**

**AU Death Note**

**L x Raito**

Disclaimer: I do not own Death Note or any of it's characters. If I did, Mello would be a girl, since he looks, dresses, and acts like he's on PMS anyway.

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Drifting  
**

_  
"This is pointless."_

_Raito didn't bother to keep the scorn out of his voice as he addressed the woman across from him, his arms crossed. He was so sick of the whole charade -every week or month a new person with a new haircut and a new suit, but all with the same fake smile plastered across their faces._

_It made him sick. There was no reason to smile. It made him want to yell. Why wouldn't they stop smiling?_

_"Really."_

_The tone of her voice had his hands curling into fists, his eyes narrowing into a sharp glare. So light, parental, as if she were humoring him in some way. As if he were a child. At nine years old, he supposed he was, but he was an adult in all the ways that counted._

_But only at the "real" adults' convenience._

_"Why do you say that, Raito-kun?"_

_Raito's mouth stretched into an unpleasant grin._

_"Let me ask you a question. What makes you so different?"_

_"Excuse me?" He watched big, brown eyes blink behind a frameless pair of glasses, the latest style. His parents were probably paying for the matching sunglasses and case right now._

_"I'm asking you what makes you so goddamn special."_

_"Well…I- I…" That was the thing about therapists, Raito decided. They were perfectly comfortable with listening to sob stories and handing down advice, but as soon as you asked them a legitimate question, they crumbled under the pressure._

_"Perhaps an explanation is in order." Raito leaned forward intently, as if speaking to a small child. "You have taken this job despite the fact that it required entrance into a different country, you're being paid less than half of your usual salary, and you have to put up with my shit. True?"_

_"W-well, yes, but I don't think-"_

_"My point exactly." Raito leaned back, crossing his legs elegantly. "Despite the fact that I have already gone through at least…" He did a quick calculation in his head. "…eleven therapists in the last few years, with admittance from all of absolutely NO success, you have ignored all obstacles to attempt an illogical task for illogical reasons. What I'm asking is why. What makes you so much better than all the others who have tried, that you think this is going to amount to anything?"_

_The woman- he wasn't even going to bother to learn her name- seemed to have regained some of her composure at this point. She was sweating though, Raito thought as he wrinkled his nose._

_How unsightly._

_"Well, Yagami-kun…" Yagami-kun now, was it? "I've always been interested by the more unusual cases, and I do love a good challenge."_

_"So nice to know I'm regarded as a 'challenge' rather than a person."_

_"That's not what I meant at all, Yagami-kun!"_

_"Then you should have thought before you said it." Raito didn't have any compassion for those who did not think before speaking. Words were a weapon, and were to be used just as carefully for the best results._

_"My a-apologies, Yagami-kun." Oh, he could see how much it irked her to have to apologize to a nine year old, and a patient at that. Almost as much as it irked him to have to be there in the first place._

_"Accepted. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like an answer to my question."_

_She opened her mouth to reply, before closing it again, looking at him closely. Good, his words had hit a nerve. She was actually thinking over her next sentence. Maybe it wouldn't be too stupid to reply to._

_But he wasn't betting on it._

_"I could ask the same thing, Yagami-kun. What makes you think that you have the right to antagonize and ignore others in the manner you do? Why can't you just get along with people like the rest of the world?"_

_He was impressed that she had thought to turn his question back on him, but she ruined any ground she might have gained with her over simplification at the end. What a crock. The last thing the rest of the world did was get along. If they ever began to get along, his father would be out of the job._

_"It's simple really." He would throw her a bone._

_"Is it?"_

_"Yes. I can do as I please, how I please, because I am different."_

_"Excuse me, but don't you think that's a bit egotistical?"_

_"Not at all. Simply because its true." His eyes flew down to the clipboard in her hands. "Undoubtedly you have been going over my files all morning, which are likely still held on that clipboard as we speak. You have seen my test scores, my accomplishments, basically my life from the time I was old enough for the government to record it, and yet you still deny the facts? I am different, and there is nothing egotistical about it."_

_"What is egotistical is when you think of yourself as the same."_

_"I beg your pardon!" She was indignant, her back straitening as she held the clipboard to her body defensively. "I sincerely doubt you have any right to such statements when we have only just met, Yaga-"_

_"And yet you do. From the second I walked into this room, you have acted as though you know me. As though you could help me. I though I even needed or wanted your help in the first place."_

_"The only ego present here, ma'am, is yours, in thinking you would succeed where others have failed. You have no experience, intelligence, theory, anything to back up your decision to come here other than your own arrogance. Now you are being faced with that, and I have no doubt that you will stew in this confrontation, so to speak, for a long time to come."_

_Raito paused for a moment, glancing at the clock. Forty-six minutes left before the hour was up. He let out a small, aggravated sigh before adding in an absentminded manner, "After, of course, you cancel any future sessions scheduled between us."_

_He could hear small noises of anger, humiliation, and what he assumed was self-pity. It took a few tries, but she finally controlled herself enough to speak. "Perhaps you were right at the beginning, Yagami-kun. This is… pointless."_

_"Of course I was right." Raito said without a moment of hesitation or doubt._

_"I always am."_

* * *

"Have a nice day at school, Raito dear!"

"Yes, mother."

"And don't forget to show me your scores when you get home!"

"Of course."

Raito didn't look back as he walked down the street, despite knowing that his mother was waving goodbye. He kept his chin up, looked straight in front of him, and walked to school. He had seen everything there was to see on the same path he always took, so what was the point in looking?

"Ni-san!"

Raito paused in his steady trek, turning around to see Sayu running toward him, a grin splitting her face in half. Raito's eyes were immediately drawn to the right shoelace, which was undone, the strand of hair that had escaped her ponytail, and the smudge of lip gloss at the corner of her mouth.

He waited till she was bent over beside him, catching her breath, before he responded.

"Yes, Sayu?"

"Ni-san, Lina-chan and I want to go to a movie tonight, but we aren't allowed to be out so late without a grownup. Mom says it would be okay if you came with us instead, and I'm sure Lina-chan's mom would say yes. Will you? Please? With sugar on top?"

Would he go to a movie with his silly, stupid little sister and her obnoxious little friend, a movie that was undoubtedly warm and fuzzy with no plot whatsoever, just to listen to them giggle and aw and flirt all night, while he did his best to act and pretend as though he wasn't there?

"Of course, Sayu."

"Thank you, ni-san! You're the best!"

Yes, he was, he thought as he pointed out the untied shoe, waiting as she bent down and tied a sloppy bow.

_I'm always the best_, he knew as he tucked the strand of hair behind her ear, using his thumb to wipe away the smudge of lip gloss.

_I'm the perfect student. I'm the perfect son. I'm the perfect big brother_, he declared silently as he watched Sayu run off towards school, her shoelace already undone and the strand of hair falling back into her eyes.

_I hate you. _He decided with utmost certainty, clenching his hands into fists, his knuckles turning white.

* * *

_  
He stood there and took it as his mother removed his coat from the hanger, holding it out for him to slip into as if he couldn't do it himself. He stuck in one arm, then the other, before his mother came around and slowly began to fasten the buttons up the front._

_He ignored the unhappy look on her face. She didn't have any right to it. He was the one that had to go, and she was the one who was making him._

_But he bit his tongue as she finished, taking a warm wool hat and placing it gently on his head. Putting on the mittens in his pockets, Raito walked over to the door, waiting for his mother to put on her own coat before going out to the car._

_Hopping into the passenger seat and strapping on his seatbelt, he didn't watch as his mother started the engine to the car, or switched it into reverse. He kept his eyes straight ahead, trained on the road, uninterested in anything around him._

_He didn't care._

_He didn't move until they pulled up beside the tall, modern building, and even then it was just to unfasten his seatbelt. He stepped out of the car, waiting for his mother to come take his hand before going in the sliding glass doors. Then it was the elevator, up, and up, and up, till they finally reached the top floor._

_Then it was a long hall, two lefts, then a right, before they were in front of the plain wooden door, a sign hung in the middle. They both stopped, the air suddenly tense, before his mother let out a long sigh and bent down next to him._

_"I know you don't want to be here honey, but try to remember, these people are here because they want to help you."_

_Raito was silent. After waiting a few moments, his mother let out another quiet sigh, hugging him close before walking back to the elevator. Before she stepped on, she turned back, calling out, "I'll pick you up in an hour sweetheart. I love you!"_

_As the elevator doors closed and Raito reached for the handle, he idly wondered how long it had been since he had bothered to say it back._

_Stepping inside the room, he was met by a mess of children's toys strewn about the floor, and a receptionists desk on the opposite wall. Careful to avoid tripping over anything, Raito walked over to the desk, ringing the small silver bell to get the receptionist's attention._

_"Ah, Yagami-kun! I'm sorry, you came in so quietly, I didn't even notice you were there!"_

_"Good day, Seichiro-san."_

_The middle aged brunette smiled down at him, his eyes crinkling with laugh lines in the corners. Raito didn't mind Seichiro-san, not like the therapists beyond the doors. He never acted like Raito was any less intelligent than he was, and treated him like an adult. Which was probably why he was still here._

_Therapists came and went with Raito's moods, but Seichiro-san he tolerated enough to keep._

_Signing his name in, Raito kept up the idle chatter, finishing his signature with an elegant flourish._

_"Oh, Raito-kun, I noticed on your records that it was your birthday today. Congratulations! How old are you now anyway?"_

_"I'm eleven." Raito answered as he walked toward his usual room._

* * *

Colors were completely pointless, Raito decided as he watched the sky from the classroom window. He should be paying attention to the teacher, he knew, but he had finished the book they were reading last week, and listening to the teacher's lectures on the material was so tedious.

So he looked at the sky, and how blue it was, how utterly pointless, and decided it was okay. It was more interesting than gray anyway.

Years ago, when he was young and, admittedly, still brilliant, he had thought the world would be so much better if it were in shades of black and white and gray. Colors were illogical, and they got in the way of everything. They only confused people, and the world was so much cleaner and easier to understand without them.

Raito had since realized how much more boring the world would be without them.

But he could forgive himself, for despite his intelligence, he had been young. Children, he believed, no matter how smart, never truly understood the concept of boredom. Their minds were constantly at work, learning and analyzing and making sense of the world around them.

It was only when they had gotten all the basics down that they realized how uninteresting they were in the first place. Raito supposed it was this realization that had given him a new appreciation of color, since it was a bit less dull than everything else.

Still, there was one point his younger self had had right. People were so annoying in the way they could never pick one shade, one color, and stick with it. Always changing, so indecisive, always changing their minds. Just scuttling through life, constantly letting it warp them and distort them until they had no idea who they were in the first place.

Like little insects on the sidewalk, running around with no point or place to go.

Not Raito though. No matter what they saw, they only saw the outside. They wouldn't, couldn't change him, despite it all. They'd tried, and they'd failed, and that was all that mattered.

He remained, as ever, unmoved.

White. Pure. _Perfe_-

He was torn from his thoughts as he watched a notebook of the deepest, most unrepentant black he had ever seen fall from the sky.

* * *

_"Daddy, why do people do bad things?"_

_Raito looked up at his sisters question, curious despite himself at what answer his father would think up for that little bomb. From the look on Soichiro Yagami's face, he almost would have preferred if Sayu had asked where babies came from._

_At least with that one it was easy to think up a lie._

_"Ah… where did this come from, Sayu?"_

_Raito watched as the little girl sat up, her forehead wrinkling as she thought hard. "Today at school Ami-chan borrowed one of Saki-chan's pencils, and then forgot to give it back. A few minutes before school got out, Saki-chan asked for it back, and Ami-chan got mad and broke the pencil. I just… don't understand why. I mean, it was Saki-chan's pencil and Ami-chan had promised to give it back, so why did she get mad?"_

_"That's a very good question, dear."_

_No kidding, thought Raito. The thing is, how are you going to answer it?_

_"And I'm going to be as honest as possible. I don't know why people do bad things. I don't think anybody does, sweetheart."_

_Sayu looked confused, not that that was any surprise. "But then, what am I supposed to do tomorrow at school?"_

_"Well… I would say, if Ami-chan says she's sorry, to forgive her, and tell Saki-chan to do the same. After all, there will be some time in your, Saki-chan's, and everyone else's life when they do something bad. And all we can do afterward is say we're sorry, and hope we're forgiven in return."_

_"Okay, daddy."_

_"Good girl."_

_Raito snorted._

_More like dumb one._

* * *

**Ryuk was, in a word, bored.**

**He'd been sitting up on the same rock for two days, staring at the same scenery that had always been there, and always would be.**

**Sometimes he wondered if immortality was all it was cracked up to be. Certainly not if you lived in this world, where nothing would ever change**. **Just the same old thing, day after day. A world as rotten as the apples that grew in it.**

**"Hey Ryuk, you still up there? Come and play a round with us, not like you've got anything better to do!" Irritating chuckles rang through the wasteland as Gukku laughed at his own joke. Eventually Deridovely, his gambling partner, joined in with him, more for the fact that he had just won the last round of gambling than from any real amusement.**

**"What for?" Ryuk asked, jumping down from his perch anyway. "Not like I'll win anything. You know when you gamble, you're supposed to be gambling for something, right?"**

**The two sitting Shinigami looked at each other for a moment, the idea never having occurred to them before.**

**"But… we ain't got nothing. What would we gamble with?"**

**"I don't know…" Ryuk said as he sat down, folding long limbs into a manageable position.**

**Suddenly an idea occurred to him. A wicked, dishonest, but fun idea. He could get into so much trouble for this, though technically it wasn't breaking any of the rules. He was too bored to care in either case. So what if he broke the rules?**

**What were they gonna do to him? He was already bored to death. Punishment might be a mercy compared to constant monotony.**

**"How about… we gamble for our Death Notes?"**

* * *

_  
The human whose name is written in this note shall die._

Well.

All and all, Raito couldn't help but think that was rather macabre, in a funny kind of way. Then again, he had always had a rather morbid sense of humor.

He shut the notebook with a snap, carefully slipping it into his bag and beginning the walk home. Very macabre, disturbing, unconventional, and all around his style. What the hell, it was interesting enough to take a closer look at.

Opening the front door of his house, he was immediately greeted by the smiling visage of his mother, seemingly expectant. Without a pause, he handed over his test scores, ignoring the admiring exclamations. It was no different than any year before, nothing to get excited over.

Ten minutes later, he was laying on his bed, glancing over at the notebook in speculation. It was pretty complex for a stupid prank, and for some strange reason…

…he had the strongest urge to try the damn thing out.

As soon as that thought had made it through his head, he found himself at his desk, pen out and ready to write a name on the paper. He paused at the last moment though.

What was he doing? What if, for some inexplicable reason, someone actually died?

So… why not choose someone who deserves to die, a frantic voice in his head thought. Why not kill someone the world would be better off without anyway?

Raito's hand twitched toward the remote, ready to turn it on and find a person it would be alright to kill. Before he stopped.

That was so…

Stupid. Pointless. Utterly illogical.

He put the pen down, closed the notebook, and walked back over to his bed. What was he, God? Well, as close to it as any human was going to get, that was for sure, but still. Someone the world would be better off without?

That implied that Raito gave a damn about the world in the first place.

No, he decided, even if this "Death Note" was real, he had no reason to use it. And even if it did work, and he did have a reason to use it…

He couldn't think of a single person worth killing in the first place.

He'd rather lay down on his bed, look out the window at the sky, and think.

Because even if he didn't use this notebook, it opened up a whole new world of possibilities.

* * *

**Ryuk crept to the entrance to the human world as best he could, despite the fact that there were no other Shinigami for miles around. He had to be careful, after all, it wasn't often you saw a Shinigami sneaking around with three Death Notes in it's possession.**

**Well, sort of, Ryuk thought sourly.**

**The Death Notes were only his for a week, and technically they weren't even his. He was only carrying them around for the time being. Thanks to the babies he had decided to gamble with.**

_**"O-our Death Notes? But Ryuk… w-we need those!"**_

_**"Oh come on, the point of gambling is to take a few risks."**_

_**"I don't know…"**_

_**"Surely you're not that close to the end of the years you've saved up?"**_

_**"Well, no…"**_

_**"But still, we'll need them eventually, and they won't work for us if they belong to you!"**_

_**"Yeah!"**_

_**"Fine… how about… on temporary terms then?"**_

_**"Temporary?"**_

_**"Meaning, whoever wins won't own the Death Notes, but will hold on to them for a certain amount of time?"  
**_**  
**_**"Well…"**_

_**"That won't hurt anything, since it will still be your Death Note and you'll get it back after a while."**_

_**"I suppose…"**_

_**"One week."**_

_**"Huh?"**_

_**"One week Ryuk. That's how long the winner will get to hold the others' Death Notes, one week."**_

_**"But that's so short!"**_

_**"So? Why would the amount of time need to be long?"**_

_**"Yeah, what's the deal Ryuk? Why would you need them a long time unless you're going to do something with them?"**_

_**"Are you planning to do something with them?"**_

_**"D-don't be ridiculous guys! What would I do with them anyway? I just thought the stakes should be a little higher is all… are we gonna play or what?"**_

**Ryuk supposed he should at least be thankful that he had won, hands down. And they had handed over their Death Notes, no further questions asked. It was funny though, not a day went by that he didn't see those two gambling sometime or another.**

**You'd think after a near eternity of practice they could win one game. As it was, they both sucked. Ryuk hadn't even had to try.**

**He finally made it to the portal to the human world, crouching down beside the hole. Laying out the three Death Notes in his (sort-of) possession in a straight line. He had to be quick and neat about this. It was only a matter of time before someone came back.**

**He quickly wrote out the instructions for using the Death Notes in all the books, even labeling the covers so the humans would know what to call them. Looking over his work, he finally nodded in satisfaction, picking up Gukku's Death Note in one hand, and Deridovely's in the other. Standing up, he spun around a few times to make himself dizzy…**

**…before walking over to the hole to the human realm and dropping both Death Notes in. His eyes were too unfocused to see where exactly the books landed, but that was part of the fun. It was only too bad they wouldn't land too far away from each other, probably in the same country even. Just because of the way the Earth happened to be turned at the time. Bah. Stupid human realm.**

**But he supposed it would suck worse if one or both landed in the ocean. Gukku and Deridovely were already gonna kill him when they found out what he had done. They should be thanking him for making their lives a bit more interesting, now that they had to go down to the human world to get their notes back. Perhaps they'd even like it.**

**Ryuk bent over, picking up the last Death Note, his own. Holding it precariously between two fingers, dangling it over the hole, he considered whether he should drop it or not. After all, he could watch what the other two idiots got up to from here, and it was the only Death Note he had.**

**Nah. He may as well keep it, just to be safe. Holding it aloft for a few more seconds, Ryuk was just about to pull it back and fasten it back in his belt-**

**"Whatcha doing Ryuk? Huh?"**

**Ryuk jumped, his entire body doing a three sixty at the voice from behind him. Upon turning around, he came face to face with Zellogi, nearly getting a face full of feathers in the process. What was he doing here anyway?**

**"Nothing…" Damn, of course he had to be caught by this guy… always asking questions, way too curious for any real Shinigami. He nearly cursed as the other Death God's eyes moved past Ryuk to the portal, and nearly panicked when a shocked look crossed his face. Had he figured it out? Was he going to tell the others? This wasn't fair, Ryuk had only been trying to have a bit of fun-**

**"Ryuk, isn't that your Death Note?"**

**What?**

**Turning sharply, Ryuk peered into the world hole, only to see a small, fluttering speck of black growing increasingly smaller. He didn't snap out of his dazed state until the other spoke again.**

**Or rather, laughed.**

**Ryuk started to sweat as he felt the beginnings of anxiety. Oh, this wasn't good. His Death Note was down on Earth, and that was not good. He couldn't care less about the others, but this was his hide on the line now. And no matter how bored he was, it didn't mean he wanted to die.**

**He didn't realize he was twisting himself up into knots until the other's startled exclamation.**

**"Whoa! Ryuk, are you okay?"**

**Ryuk had a sudden appreciation for what humans liked to call sarcasm.**

**"Yes. I'm just great. Just wonderful. Just peachy. Just…"**

**He paused for a moment, searching for the right word.**

_**"…Perfect."**_

* * *

A/N: Wow. Oo The next chapter out in two days. I think that's a record for me. Then again, I've been sick and confined to bed, and really have nothing better to do. Boredom really is a good motivator.

Now, I'm giving my special, super-sparkly thanks to Nilahxapiel for beta-ing this for me, despite the document formatting issues we had in the process. You have no idea how much I appreciate it! TTxTT Why can't computers just choose a format and stick with it anyway? Makes no sense... Ugh...

Anyway, introduction of the Death Note into the story at this point. Yay! And not just one or two, but three! (For now... hehehehe... 3) Okay, I'm just gonna ask because I'm really curious, but I want to know who people think are gonna pick up the Deathnotes (other than Raito, obviously), and what their going to do with them when they get them. After all, I want to know if I'm that obvious... (grumble, mumble, grumble...)

Bah, enough of that, you guys are probably sick of my whining already. XD Anyway, as always, reviews are loved and cherished as if they were my own children, but there's no obligation. If it's not good enough to get reviews on its own merit, I'm obviously not trying hard enough! -Evil laugh-

I've gotta go barf now, so yeah. Enjoy the story! Oh, and don't ask me what I have planned for it. Cause in all honesty...

I don't. Oo -cricket chip- I believe I have just the vaguest idea of where I'm going with this, like a drunk driver has the vaguest idea there's a tree in the way.

TTFL! (Now that I look back, it occurs to me that Tigger sounds really gay... am I alone in that?)


	3. Chapter 2

**This Black Lamb**

**AU Deathnote**

**L x Raito**

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Deathnote or any of its characters. If I did Near and Mello would have been L's illicit love children, since both of their eyes are fucking creepy. If it's not the gene pool, I don't want to know what it is.

A/N: I know, I know. I'm putting an author note at the beginning AND the end of this chapter. Feel free to slap me if you can figure out who I am and find me. Believe me, if some complete stranger comes up and smacks me out of the blue one day after I wrote this, I'll know why.

I'm writing this because I've been told my story is a bit hard to follow. Yes, I know that. That is on purpose. It is my personal preference and opinion that readers should have to think about a story if the author really wants to involve them in it, letting them work things out and draw some of their own conclusions. However, I don't want people to get lost and give up on my story all together, so I'll explain a few things. It might give away a few subtle storylines I wanted people to come to notice on their own, but if they want to try, they can stop reading the author note here and go straight to the story.

The first thing I am going to explain is Raito's different ages in different sections. The parts in italics (in fan 's case) are "flashbacks", so to speak. Since I can't figure out how to make italics on the adultfanfiction website, the people reading this there will simply have to figure it out for themselves. Now, the explanation.

You'll notice in the first "flashback" that Raito's father is talking to the teacher, and is being told about Raito's social condition, as much as Raito hates the word. This ties into the rest of the flashbacks, as they are a progression of events leading up to the way Raito is in the present parts, or the type in plain print. The word sociopath is mentioned within the section (as well as the similar antisocial), and if you know anything about these conditions, you will understand Raito's seemingly odd behavior.

Sociopaths are people who do not connect very well with others, to put it in simple terms, since I don't want to have to explain even more psychological vocabulary. (Yes, I am in a college level psych class).

They have little to no empathy for fellow human beings, and let their own personal feelings and ideas take precedence in any situation. But at the same time, they are very much in tune with social behavior and effects, mainly how to manipulate it. They are able to analyze and control what goes on around them in a social situation, and do not have the same emotional qualms such as sympathy and guilt to stop them from doing what they have to in order to get what they want, and they don't really care about consequences or how their actions may effect others. Because of their unique abilities, they are also some of the most intelligent minds in existence.

In other words, they are very dangerous people who know what they are doing and have nothing holding them back from doing it. It should come as no surprise to anyone that sociopaths are also some of the most successful people in the world, especially in big business.

In the actual Deathnote books, we see Raito begin as a nearly perfect teen, with a strong sense of right and wrong and a determination to make the world a better place. As time goes on though, we see his good side's gradual decay and his growing corruption. He begins with the intention to make the world a better place, quickly moving on to a power struggle with L, continuing his "quest" out of a desire to win more than anything else. By the end, he has gone even further, letting go of all morals and limitations to his behavior, only wishing to kill whoever stands in his way and begin to rule his new world.

By the end, Raito is nearly the definition of an extreme sociopath. But even if he hadn't found the Death Note, there was always the potential for him to develop such a psychological disorder, and I believe the seeds of it were what prompted him to begin using the Death Note in the first place.

What I am doing is almost a reversal of his steady psychological decay. Certain events, such as his early avoidance of other children, the trauma of his kidnapping, his frustration of misunderstanding concepts and people around him, and being misunderstood in return, as well as the stress from continued and unsuccessful therapy lead to a fast progression of psychological disorder. By the time he is sixteen, which is his intended age in the current time, when he finds the Death Note, he is to, and perhaps past the state of antisocial and sociopathic behavior he displays in the last book, including his death scene.

This is a bit of a spoiler, but in the actual series, I believe the presence of the Death Note was a turning point in Raito's psychological health, a rather obvious conclusion. I intend it to be the same in this story, only in reverse. Raito has essentially already sunk to the low point of his mental stability when he finds the Deathnote, and therefore, the only real way to go is up.

Which brings me to why he didn't use the Death Note in the first place. Part of it is because of simple apathy. When you add his mental problems to his overall boredom with his life, I see the result being a state of lethargy and disinterest in everything, even the supernatural. In short terms, Raito is jaded to life. He simply does not have the drive behind him to really do anything. (And, now that I'm really writing my thoughts down, I might want to take back the idea that he's at his absolute "low" mental point. It could be inferred that if his life had continued in the same pattern, Raito would have become suicidal at some point, just to escape the monotony if nothing else.)

The other part of it is that he does not have the same sense of justice. He does not experience much in the way of emotion thanks to his state of mind, except perhaps those with negative connotations, and does not have any feelings or opinion on what is good or bad. Lacking what most call a conscience, he differentiates between good and evil only from what he has been taught or told, not from any internal feeling on the matter. And even then, he doesn't care, so long as he gets his way (almost sounds like L, who I believe displays some antisocial tendencies as well, though not nearly as severe as Raito at the end).

Therefore, he does not have a sense of justice motivating him to try to do anything productive with the power that so luckily descended upon him.

So, because I love the little bastard and I want him to be at least a half way decent person in the end, I have reversed the progression. Rather than the discovery of the Death Note and introduction with Ryuk (coming up!) be the beginning of his end, I am making it the beginning of his healing process. I won't give any more away as to how exactly this is accomplished (since I've got the basic idea in my head, but am still tinkering with the details), so you'll just have to keep reading, now won't you?

And as for some events in different POV's not being in chronological order, such as Raito finding the Death Note before we found out how exactly Ryuk dropped it in the last chapter, well… I just think it makes the story more interesting to read. You find out something that happened, but you essentially have to turn back the clock to see the progression of events leading up to the incident. It is also a strategy I took from the series itself, such as when Raito lost his memories, we all go WTF?!, then later go back and see all the complicated stages of his plan that led up to the current status quo. It also happens in the last few books with Raito pitting his plot against Near's, and we don't see all the levels of it until right in the middle of the Warehouse scene. Same concept. Sorry if you don't like it, but -shrug- I like writing it.

Please try to tough it out, I'm trying to make it worth it for you.

Also, with the different "shades" Raito is constantly mentioning, observing, or hinting toward. These are included to show his own feelings of isolation from the rest of humanity. Others are constantly shifting through emotions and being effected by their environment and others in it, which is represented by the different shades that come and go across them. These "shades of grey" are the way Raito is perceiving emotion, since he only experiences a very distant relative of emotions himself. This is also the reason he sees himself as pure white. Blank, unaffected. He does not feel or respond in the same ways as others do, thinking more with his mind than with his heart, if you don't mind the bad representation. He does not let what others think, perceive, or do affect his opinions, ideas, or state of being. It's rather sad, because while he sees this as an indication of his own perfection, its actually showing how he is missing certain components that make him human.

The concept of color is also important, like when he finally mentioned seeing the color red, where he had (or I had) been doing his best to avoid mentioning it before that point. It was because color upset his concept of the world around him, as it was something he couldn't understand. Seeing himself as pure white led to his conclusion that he was the ideal, and since everyone around him was made up of shifting, darker shades they were imperfect and, therefore, inferior. Color does not fit into this equation though, which is part of the reason it is ignored at first.

However, when confronted with a situation that actually forced him to not only feel emotion (fear, when it was a possibility that he would die), but also be confronted with something outside his experience and understanding (death), his sudden fascination with color was born. In a way, it could be said that after the incident, he associates color with the unknown, and therefore, the interesting. Which may be another reason he takes no real interest in the Death Note, as it is entirely composed of black and white, symbolizing the monotony, frustration, and inability he has to understand others every day.

Oh, and another reason he doesn't use the Death Note; he's a stubborn little prick that doesn't like being

told or, in this case, tempted into doing something he doesn't want to do.

And he's lazy. OO'

That's all that I'm going to say for now, since I've already done way more explaining than I really should, and given some story points away in the process. However, I understand that the style I'm using is a bit hard to follow, so if people have anymore questions they'd like to ask as far as it is concerned, I'd be happy to answer them.

JUST TO WARN YOU, THE NEXT FEW COMMENTS ARE TO SPECIFIC PEOPLE, AND CONTAIN SOME SPOILERS THAT PEOPLE MIGHT NOT WANT TO HEAR.

Okay, to those who made guesses - only Neverending Odyssey got one right, though I'm not gonna say which one. And another one of their guesses was close, but not quite. And SonokoTao, one of your guesses will get one, but won't be picking one of the ones Ryuk dropped up. A series of events will lead up to their possessing the Deathnote. And that's all I'm gonna say cause I don't want to give any more away!

And there will be another author's note at the end, but it will be much shorter, thank GOD. My fingers hurt from typing this so fast. TT x TT

Now, for the actual story. -sweat drop-

Oh! And before I forget…

"Normal" Present Human POV

"_Italics_" Character Flashbacks

"**Bold"** Present Shinigami POV

Just so you all know. Meep.

……… /Holy shit that took up three pages… OO………/

* * *

**Chapter 2 - Expectations**

**It had been five days since Ryuk had accidentally dropped his bloody Death Note, no pun intended, and hell if he had managed to track it down yet. You wouldn't think it would be hard to track down one notebook that could kill, but noooooo….**

**He was suddenly reminded that he had done nothing for the last century but sit around and brood for the most part. And when one was flying all over a freaking planet in search of something no bigger than a square foot, it could get pretty exhausting. Ryuk actually considered going on a diet he was so out of shape, but then he remembered that he didn't even eat in the first place.**

**Not that the aroma of the apple pie he had caught flying past a diner a while back hadn't smelled absolutely sinful….**

**But he was only allowed to take things from the human world that were given to him, part of the whole Shinigami gig. Except life, but he sort of considered that more of a right than a privilege, in any case. Once again going back to that whole God of Death thing-**

**But he was getting sidetracked. He needed to find that notebook fast, or he would spend the rest of his life flying around this waste of space junk, tortured with delicious apple smells and using up all the years of life he had saved up. Getting bitten in the ass by one's own prank really was a bitch.**

**He finally landed on a nice looking telephone pole, crouching his abnormal limbs into a more compact position. Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, he tried to recall all the places he had checked so far. He had been to India, and almost gotten run over by an elephant… Ryuk wasn't sure why, but animals were able to see Shinigami without touching a Death Note beforehand. At the same time, they were never really disturbed by their presence, perhaps instinctively knowing the Gods of Death were no threat to them. Death Notes didn't work on animals, for whatever reason, and Ryuk couldn't be bothered to put any real effort into figuring out why.**

**Though, sometimes he had the thought that it had to do with how similar humans were to Shinigami. Both were sentient, obviously, a trait neither shared with any other member of the animal kingdom to be sure. But at the same time….**

**Ryuk wondered if it didn't have more to do with the capacity for sin. After all, truth be told, the Death Note was an object of murder, full of malicious intent no matter the initial intentions. But animals were incapable of sin, only knowing survival, and doing only what was necessary to attain it.**

**Maybe the Death Note held no power over the truly innocent?**

**Bah. Now he sounded like a religious nut of a human, like the ones that used to sacrifice animals for their sins. Though he seemed to recall a religion that had gone so far as to sacrifice a human for the pardon of all. Of course, the human had also been labeled the son of God, since there was no way such a being could be human.**

**Because he was perfect. And there was nothing farther from the grasp of humanity than perfection.**

**But all this theological what-not was making his head hurt. The Death Notes existed, as did their rules, for whatever reason. It wasn't his place to question it. He liked to think of it more as population control than anything else. It was only fair that, if the humans were going to be the predators of every other being on the planet, they should also be prey to something as well.**

**Wasn't like they were gonna go extinct anytime soon.**

**Argh… off track again. Focus, Ryuk, focus! Now, okay… India, elephant, got it. Been to France, sat on top of the Eifel Tower, reveled in the novelty for all of two seconds, check. Flown past somewhere else in Europe (he got the names mixed up a lot), nearly cried when he spotted an apple orchard, right in the middle of harvest…**

**Oh, that one got one big fat fucker of a check.**

**Whatever, Ryuk thought, giving up. He wasn't going to remember everywhere he had been, but he knew that he hadn't been here yet. How? All the people were smaller and had dark eyes, that's how. Now what was this place called again? China? No, that wasn't an island…**

**Japan! That was it. Alrighty, now where to start his search in Japan? He didn't exactly like the idea of flying into every one of the tiny apartments, especially not when there were a couple MILLION of them, all in one city.**

**Oh, the joys of big populations crammed into limited spaces.**

**Ryuk was about to take off when he got a familiar itch in the back of his head. Smiling (though he always was, it's not like anyone could tell), he did a 180, immediately taking flight and heading towards the source of the feeling. Looked like he wasn't going to have to look anymore after all.**

**There was nothing quite like the feeling of a Death Note just itching to be used. Though that puzzled him a bit. If it had been found, why hadn't it been used yet? All Shinigami knew that Death Notes, for whatever reasons, were nearly impossible to ignore, almost sentient in their own way. Like they had their own mind and agenda, something that drew a being into writing in them.**

**In other words, it was almost as if they wanted to be used.**

**And, like any other sentient thing, they had a tendency to get downright bitchy when they were ignored. Ryuk could only imagine what kind of person could have resisted using one for this long.**

**They were pretty persistent, and if that whatever-it-was in the Death Note was bothering him, it must be pretty desperate.**

**After all, it didn't belong to Ryuk anymore. So even when he found it, there wasn't really anything he could do with it. It was a rather extreme streak of rotten luck, Ryuk decided. But Shinigami were said to be bad omens, after all.**

**Ryuk wondered if he should be amused at the fact that he might be his own bad luck charm.**

* * *

"_Ni-san, come see!"_

_Raito looked up from his book, irritated at the interruption, though none of it showed on his face. Carefully pushing himself up, he memorized his page number before closing the book with a decisive snap. Strolling over to Sayu, he followed her pointing hand to see a small, trembling form in the grass._

"_Oh." He stated, completely disinterested. "Neat."_

"_What is it?"_

"_It's a baby bird, Sayu."_

"_But… where are all its feathers?"_

"_Birds don't grow real feathers until they're a bit older Sayu, it's part of their natural maturation."_

"_Their what?"_

"…_Nevermind. They'll grow into them."_

"_Oh."_

_Oh. That was it? So nice to know just how much his intelligence was lost on this little dimwit of a -_

_sister. She's your sister, Raito. Try not to judge her too harshly._

_Sometimes she made that REALLY difficult though, as she was now. He watched as she leaned back, squinting her eyes as she peered between the branches of the tree overhead._

"_Look, there's a nest! She must have fallen out of it!"_

_Brilliant deduction, Sherlock. Though Raito had to wonder how she had come to the conclusion that the bird was a she. There really weren't any tell-tale signs at this stage of development, as far as he could remember. She was probably just saying it cause she wanted it to be a she. Figured._

"_Ni-san…" Sayu trailed off, furrowing her brows in puzzlement. "How do you suppose she fell out of the nest?"_

_Raito looked down at the small form in the grass closely, noticing small indents on its frail, barely developed frame. "I suspect that this is the runt of the bunch, Sayu. Its brothers and sisters probably pushed it out of the nest, since it was too weak to stop them. Even if we put it back, they would probably just push it out all over again, and it probably wouldn't survive the fall a second time."_

"_B-but… that's awful!"_

_Welcome to mother nature, ain't she a bitch? Raito sighed, biting his tongue. He could go into great detail over survival of the fittest and natural instinct and how it all resulted in the logical death of the weakest so the strong could survive, but he had a feeling it would be lost on his little sister. She'd probably end up crying, go to their parents all weepy eyed, and give him a hard time for the rest of the night._

_So, ever the kind and dutiful big brother (intent on avoiding a night of living hell the likes of which only a pre-adolescent girl could create), Raito pasted a small smile on his face._

"_You know what, Sayu… I bet it was all just an accident. He probably just fell out on his own. Why don't_

_you go ahead and go back inside before mom wonders where you are, and I'll get the baby bird back up to it's nest, okay?"_

_The big smile told him he had successfully navigated the mine field, with nary an explosion or casualty._

"_Really? Thank you so much, ni-san! I'm sure the birdie thanks you too!" Sayu ran inside, pigtails bouncing. Raito's eyes watched her, making sure she went inside before he turned his attention back to the little bird._

_It looked so small down there, vulnerable to anything. So tiny. So helpless. So weak._

"_Just so you know, this is nothing personal."_

_With a flash of pity so brief it almost wasn't even there, Raito lifted his foot, stomping down on the small body and killing it, only hearing a few small crack as its bones were crushed._

_Removing his foot, he looked down at the tiny corpse. He'd just tell Sayu that it must have fallen out again and been crushed from the impact with the ground. Raito turned and made his way to the door, leaving the incident behind him with a few short words._

"_That's just the way life is."_

* * *

Raito wondered if keeping the damn Death Note was really worth it. If it weren't for his loathing the idea of someone else possessing such a thing, he would have chucked it out the window ages ago. Or, better yet, dropped it into the ocean, waving cheerfully as it sunk into the dark depths and crushing pressure of a thousand leagues under the sea.

Such fantasies were all that was keeping him going at this point.

He felt the annoying buzzing in the back of his head, one that made him inexplicably angry, aggressive, and downright homicidal all at once. And he was pretty sure that it wasn't his natural reaction to discomfort causing it.

That damn notebook wanted him to kill someone, and was holding nothing back in trying to annoy him into doing so. Too bad it didn't know Raito very well.

His competitive nature was just going to town with the situation, and he was beginning to see how pride could be construed as one of the seven deadly sins. Once the challenge had been set and accepted, Raito would rather die than back down. The more that thing tried to tempt him, the more determined he was not to give into it.

Which left him in a damn miserable mess, since the note seemed to be nearly as stubborn as him. Oh yes, his pride was going to get him into trouble one day, he was sure of it.

But Raito had never lost anything in his life. And it would be a cold day in hell before he allowed himself to be beaten by a notebook of all things, never mind that it belonged to a God of Death.

Speaking of which, when was the damn thing going to show up anyway? The notebook had plainly said that that was who it belonged to, and it was pretty obvious the Shinigami didn't just let their method of murder fall from the sky every day. So the obvious conclusion was that it had been an accident, and that the Shinigami was looking for the notebook at that very moment.

And Raito wanted to be ready for it, whatever it was. After all, he figured, if he managed to catch the damn thing, it would be a much more interesting pet than a fish. Glancing back at the rug trap, complete with tripwires and a net fastened to the ceiling, just ready to be sprung, he doubted the conventional ways would work. But it was worth a shot. Who knew? Maybe Shinigami could be caught just like humans, maybe not. How would he know?

But the damn thing had better come soon. He was running out of excuses to keep Sayu and his mother out of his room. Wouldn't want either of them to get caught in his probably useless traps, if only because he didn't want to come up with answers to the questions that would follow such an event….

His train of thought was broken by more poking and prodding by the seemingly 'innocent' little notebook sitting on his desk. Raito felt a vein pulse in his forehead as he glared at the thing. Well, that was interesting. Though, he supposed, you learned something new everyday.

Brains really could be poked.

He closed his eyes for a few seconds, trying to calm himself down. He had never been pushed like this, he would admit. There was just something about the methodical and unorthodox attempts on the notebook's part to break him down that just… managed to wire him in the worst sort of way. A way nobody had ever been able to accomplish before now. But no matter, he needed to remain in control, as always. Letting an enemy rile you into anger, and afterward, stupid and rash mistakes, was a defeat in its own merit.

Once more composed, Raito calmly got up, moving over to his bookshelf. Picking out the biggest book, which happened to be a dictionary, he moved over to his desk, glancing down at the note as if bored. Holding the dictionary up a few feet above the surface of his desk, Raito dropped it, watching as it fell straight onto the Death Note with a decisive thud.

Raito smirked. He could have sworn he felt the notebook's exclamation and protest. While at first he had been alarmed by the strangely intelligent (and, somehow, telepathic) notebook, that was five days ago. All it took was five days for such a novel experience to get old.

Maybe his family was right. Maybe there was something wrong with him, if it was so easy for him to accept the existence of a thinking, speaking (in a manner) notebook that could kill by writing names down.

Raito considered that for a moment. …Nah. There was nothing wrong with him. He was just far too adaptable for his own good sometimes.

Moving back over to his bed, Raito was startled by the flash of black outside his window, and was further distracted when the waves of displeasure spilling from the direction of his desk quieted. It was strangely unaffected in the room for a few minutes (as it had not been for the past few days), until finally Raito felt the note nearly quivering in excitement.

Ah. He was willing to bet just about anything that the Death God was here.

Rather than going and peering out his window, face pressed to the glass like some gaping idiot, Raito turned to the side, looking out of the corner of his eye. Walking parallel to the wall, he finally stopped when the Shinigami came into view. It seemed the creature was…

…sitting on a light pole?

Well, Raito thought, blinking, that was a new one. He would file that away in the very short list of things that had managed to surprise and amuse him all at once. But he quickly shook himself back into concentrating. Walking over to his desk where the Death Note lay silently, squished, he sat down in his chair, swiveling until he was facing the center of the room.

Now, what did one do when they met a Shinigami? Were they supposed to bow, or cry, or beg for their life? None of those options were very likely in his case. He supposed he should just sit back and allow the God of Death to make the first move, just so he had some vague idea of where they stood. Who knew, maybe the creature would be amusing. But still, it was a God he was meeting after all.

Perhaps he should have dressed up for the occasion.

* * *

**Ryuk squatted on the light pole, looking down at the small house in front of him. According to his DNR (Death Note Radar), his note was located somewhere inside there, though he wasn't sure where exactly. Well, wasn't like he couldn't look.**

**After a few countries, what was one small home?**

**Jumping down till he was standing on the sidewalk, Ryuk pulled in his wings and walked up to the door, laughing at himself as he did it. How very human of him, to walk up the front sidewalk. He supposed it would be even funnier if he walked in the front door. Stopping in front of it (despite the fact that he could walk right through it) Ryuk gave a few more hyuks as he held one finger up, promptly ringing the doorbell.**

**Standing there, his shoulders bobbing up and down with his chuckles, Ryuk watched as the door opened, a middle aged woman standing just inside it. She looked so confused as she stuck her head out, turning it back and forth to try and spot the mysterious guest. All the time unaware that she currently had her skull sticking through his stomach.**

**Odd sight, Ryuk thought, looking down. He shrugged though, not very interested now that his prank was over. Taking a few steps forward, walking through the woman, he glanced around the front room. Very clean and tidy, with nary a Death Note or hiding spot for said note in sight.**

**But somehow he had known that that would be the case. It wasn't likely that the owner would keep it in a family room anyway, for fear of discovery. No, they would keep it in their bedroom, where they could keep an eye on it at all times. Ryuk was willing to bet that humans in possession of a Death Note were nearly, if not more, obsessive about the things than their original Shinigami owners. The Shinigami's were obsessed because the Death Notes were their way of life. Without them, they could not live.**

**Though, if a human used the Death Note, the same thing could be said. If they let it out of their sight, if someone found it and they were caught, well… game over, folks. They'd be lucky if they got to go to prison, more likely they'd be executed. So it really was a matter of life or death in both cases.**

**Tramping up the stairs, and really wishing there was room for his wings, Ryuk found himself staring down a hallway. Sighing as though very put upon, Ryuk walked to the first door, and hesitated.**

**Before sticking his head straight through it, taking a quick peek around the bedroom he found on the other side, and concluding that this couldn't possibly be the owner's bedroom. It was just too, too… pink.**

**Retrieving his head, he did much the same thing with the next two rooms, and came to the same fast conclusion. Wondering if he had been wrong, he finally made his way to the door at the end of the hallway.**

**Just stepping within a few feet of this doorway made all his hair stand on end, erasing all doubts that he had come to the wrong place. He could practically feel the Death Note buzzing on the other side of the door, though, for some reason, it almost felt indignant. Bah, he must be imagining things. He just hoped the human didn't scream when they saw him; that would just be annoying.**

**Without further ado, Ryuk walked through the door, taking a few steps into the center of the room.**

**He had the brief impression of a tidy bedroom, almost obsessive compulsive in its perfect placement of everything. He took a look at what must have been the owner of his note, who looked like a teenage boy. He just managed to get a glimpse of his Death Note, which for some reason… was smashed beneath one hell of a big dictionary?**

**He was just about to tell the human, whoever he was, to be more careful with that, he'd need it back someday after all- before he stumbled over a clear tripwire, the rug pulling up - with him still standing on it - and a net falling down over that.**

**Ow.**

**Ryuk wondered why this sort of thing always happened to him.**

* * *

Raito would acknowledge, but never admit, that upon first seeing the Shinigami to whom his notebook belonged, he felt the beginnings of fear. With a face locked into an eternal mocking grimace, and a long, gangly frame too tall to be a person, the creature truly was monstrous. What chance did Raito, a mere mortal, stand against such a being?

Such thoughts stopped abruptly as the Shinigami fell straight into his trap, ending up tied and netted in Raito's old rug, tied shut and dangling from the ceiling.

Raito deadpanned.

Well, that was unimpressive. Looks like Shinigami were just as fallible as humans, if a bit more morbid in appearance. Raito silently reprimanded himself for ever being afraid. Even if it was a 'God of Death', it had been stupid enough to lose its notebook in the human world, and was therefore stupid enough for Raito to handle. He never should have doubted his abilities.

But now, Raito thought as he stood up, perhaps some introductions are in order. A few short steps took him to the caught Shinigami, and Raito poked the side of the bag, getting a little impatient.

"Stop messing around, Shinigami, I don't have all day. I know you can get out, if you walked through a wall, a bag and net couldn't hold you."

There was silence for a moment before the Shinigami fell through the bottom of the bag, and landed on the floor with a loud thump.

"Raito, sweetheart, what was that? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" Raito yelled down to his mother, glaring down at the monster on his floor. What was that, anyway? Were Gods of Death really supposed to be this stupid?

Looking the God over, Raito was startled when he noticed something. Something he had never seen in anyone but himself.

There was no gray shifting over the Shinigami's form, no change in the colors and shades that made up the being before him. He stayed, just as Raito did, solid and unchanging.

But unlike Raito, who was the brightest, clearest white… this creature was the same dark, defiant black that made up the cover of the notebook Raito had found.

That was… interesting.

_That was very interesting._

* * *

_Raito hadn't really known his mother's father, his grandfather, very well - if at all. They had met a total of four times, two of those when he was too young to remember. Once, he had only seen his grandfather for about five minutes before they had to be on their way, not even enough time for more than a bit of small talk. He had spoken to the man once though…._

_Or, more accurately, been spoken at._

_His grandfather had come to visit them, only able to stay for a few hours. It was when Sayu was still little enough to be lifted easily, which their grandfather had done, spinning her around a few times, ignoring his mother's anxious expression in favor of ecstatic giggles. Watching the scene from the side of the room, still pretty young himself, Raito had felt a brief stirring in his chest. Even though he knew it was childish and pointless and stupid and wouldn't do him any good…_

…_he had really hoped his grandfather would come over, pick him up, and spin him around too._

_He had watched, almost excited, as the man set Sayu down, tentatively stepping forward, waiting to be drawn into the arms and lifted into the air._

_He had seen his grandfather spot him, smile, and walk over._

_Raito held his breath in anticipation._

_He had let it out when his grandfather had kneeled in front of him, taking his hands in a strong grip, looking him seriously in the eyes._

"_And you would be Raito, neh? Yes, you're just as your mother said, aren't you, my boy? A son to make any parent proud…" There was a grin on his face now. "I've heard a lot about you Raito, and I'm here to tell you to keep pushing ahead. You've already accomplished so much in your life-" The man's chest puffed out a bit, the look in his eyes one of familial pride. "- but that doesn't mean you can slow down or stop trying. Your family gives a lot for your sake, Raito, and someday you'll have a family of your own, just like your father. You've got plenty of people counting on you, and as a man, it's your job to take care of them, you understand me?"_

"_Yes, grandfather."_

"_That's a boy." He stood up, ruffling Raito's hair. "Make us all proud son!"_

_His grandfather walked over to talk to his mother, and Raito let his arms hang at his sides as he stared after the man, unmoving._

_He refused to acknowledge the stinging in his eyes. Turning away, he ran up to his room, shutting the door and burrowing under the covers of his bed. He didn't let any tears escape, clenching his eyes so hard he felt they might break._

_He squashed any left over hope and hurt brutally, coldly, curling up on himself._

_He didn't go down to wish his grandfather good-bye that night. And the man never came to visit him again._

_And now Raito was at his funeral._

_And this time, he didn't have any tears to fight back._

* * *

**A week after locating his Death Note, getting captured in a most humiliating manner by a human of all things, and meeting the guy he would have to follow around till he died…**

**Ryuk was feeling pretty damn good. Though that may or may not have had more to do with the apple he was currently devouring than anything else.**

**Though, as far as humans went, Raito wasn't so bad. He certainly wasn't scared of Ryuk, which was interesting in and of itself, but he was smarter than any human, and maybe even any Shinigami Ryuk had ever met.**

**But he was colder too. Colder than Ryuk, he thought sometimes, with the way he could look at what was going on around him and just not care.**

**It was fascinating. But at the same time, he didn't know why the human did some of the things he did. He could see plain as day that he was dissatisfied with his life, and the endless routine he was continually shoved into. He couldn't help but think that it was a tremendous waste of talent, someone like Raito being stuck in a place like this.**

**Stupid people. Endless routines. Pointless accomplishments. It was all so dull.**

**And it wasn't much fun for Ryuk either, since he hadn't been able to convince Raito to use the Death Note. Though, he wasn't sure the consequences of using it would be worth it to a human.**

**He suddenly wondered how Gukku and Deridovely were doing, down here in the human world. They were both probably wishing death upon him now for dropping their Death Notes down here, he thought with a grin. And, even though their human's couldn't possibly be as interesting as Raito, he hoped that they didn't have to follow around someone too boring…**

**Bah, he couldn't believe he was wasting his time worrying about those two idiots.**

**But still, ANYTHING to escape the monotony of this.**

"**It's just homework, Ryuk. Everyone has to do it, and I assure you, I'm not the only one who doesn't like it."**

"**But you already know all the stuff they're teaching you, Raito, so what's the point?"**

"**My grades are the point, Ryuk. My parents expect me to keep them up and maintain my standing as number one in Japan."**

"**And why should what they want matter to you?"**

**Ryuk watched as Raito's pen paused on the paper, his eyes going blank and thoughtful.**

"**I've asked that a lot of times myself."**

**Even after such a statement, he began to write again. And once again, despite the fact that Ryuk really was kind of fond of Raito and knew he was probably the most interesting human he was going to find down here…**

…**he was bored to tears. Because Raito was stuck in a life that bored him to tears. Which was really unfair to them both. Boredom was almost worse than death or hell in a way, because you always knew exactly what was coming, and you never had any way to stop it.**

**It just continued on, with no hope for respite.**

**Ryuk took it back. If boredom wasn't the definition of hell, he didn't know what was.**

**And he wasn't going to waste his one chance to escape that hell like this, and, despite the fact that he was a Shinigami, and was NOT going to get tangled up in caring about any pathetic little _human_...**

…**he wasn't going to let Raito waste his life in a continuous state of boredom either. There would be enough time for that after death. He wasn't going to acknowledge the sort of kinship he felt with the boy, almost a kindred spirit, an active and curious mind rotting in the dump of monotony…**

**Yes, a definite waste of talent. And Ryuk was just going to have to fix that if he wanted to have any fun at all.**

**But he knew enough about Raito to know that coming out and saying all this would do him no good.**

**Even while agreeing with the Shinigami, Raito had the unique ability to completely disregard anything he said. A total contradiction, and one the boy managed to make look effortless. No, if Ryuk wanted to wake Raito up and get him to actually do something, anything, he was going to have to hit Raito's one weak spot.**

_**His pride.**_

**Lying back on the bed, mourning the fact that Raito refused to bring him any more apples, Ryuk let out a stream of long, depressed moans. Keeping it up for about a quarter of an hour, he allowed himself a bit of satisfaction when Raito finally sighed and set his pen down, turning to face the Shinigami.**

"**Is there something you wanted, Ryuk?"**

"**Another apple would be nice…" Spotting the beginnings of dismissal in Raito's eyes, Ryuk quickly abandoned his plea. "But that's not my problem. Why do you put up with this, Raito? How do you put up with this sort of life?"**

**He saw something that most would interpret as sadness on Raito's face, though Ryuk knew better. It was disappointment. He didn't know how, or when, but he couldn't help but think, in that moment, that that was all life had really ever been to Raito.**

**One disappointment after the other.**

**Well, it didn't have to be that way any longer. Not if he had anything to say about it.**

"**It's really… just the way things are, Ryuk. Everything is boring. Life is boring. And there is no doubt in my mind that it always will be."**

"**If you find all of life so boring, Raito…"**

**Ryuk spoke softly as he let the hammer fall.**

"…**You must be a very boring person."**

**He watched Raito stiffen, his eyes looking up at the Shinigami's, shocked. After a few minutes, they were still the same wide, open amber, looking at nothing in particular, probably not even seeing the Shinigami before them.**

**But Ryuk could practically see the wheels turning behind them, spinning at a furious pace, trying to take all the different implications of Ryuk's statement in.**

**At that moment, Ryuk knew it was the beginning of… well, something. It just had to be.**

**He just wasn't sure what that something was yet.**

* * *

Namikawa tapped his fingers against the top of the table, his eyes shifting about the boardroom in an idle manner. It was their monthly meeting of the top executives in Yotsuba, with all of them gathered to discuss everything from their stock to their competition in the market. Everyone seemed especially attentive today. It was understandable, since their stock had made a substantial and unwarranted rise in the past few weeks.

Due to a series of unfortunate events in strangely helpful places.

Yes, the Death Note was just as useful as Namikawa had suspected, allowing him to kill effortlessly without leaving any evidence as to the perpetrator, or even to the fact that it was a murder in the first place.

Just as the instructions had read, he thought, glancing back at the Shinigami standing behind him. Gukku, if he remembered correctly. He had to contain a small smirk it as he saw the creature observing the fish in the aquarium to one side of the room. He had noticed all week that the smallest things could amuse the Shinigami, though it wasn't surprising with what it had told about the Shinigami realm...

…he had also found out in the last few weeks that the Shinigami was a chronic gambler. And he sucked at it too.

Even though it was a big, scary, and more importantly, deadly monster, Namikawa couldn't help but be endeared to it. Only a little though. Enough not to mind it hanging around him all the time. And even if he hadn't liked the creature, it's presence was a small price to pay for the use of its Death Note.

Which reminded him. He turned his attention back to the meeting, or more accurately, the people included in it.

Namikawa wasn't stupid, by any stretch of the imagination. He already knew that, even if they couldn't figure out how, someone would notice that there seemed to be a lot of corporate deaths lately. And right now, all of said deaths were directly benefiting the company Yotsuba, raising its stock through the ceiling, as it were. Even if it took a while, the pieces would be put together if he let the situation stand. An investigation on Yotsuba, mainly its executives, would lead directly to an investigation on him, and though the Death Note would not be an easy method of murder to find or to prove…

He wasn't willing to take that chance. Which led him to his current situation. If he wanted Yotsuba to come out of this looking clean, they had to look like a victim as well. He knew what he had to do.

But still, it was hard to look at the faces of one's colleagues and make the decision to kill one of them.

And he was really having trouble choosing. But it had to be done.

Letting his instincts lead him, his eyes scanned over all the business men, finally coming to stop on one attentive face.

Higuchi.

Yes, he would do.

Namikawa wouldn't mind being rid of this one. A snake of a man, Higuchi was all ambition and no brains, with his love of money the only substantial thing about him. Besides, his death was just what Namikawa was looking for. An executive, his death would be very public, and the Yotsuba stocks would, without a doubt, drop substantially. However, he was expendable, as someone would replace him, possibly someone more qualified for his position in the first place. With the addition, Yotsuba's stocks would recover quickly, with a good chance of surpassing their current level, high as it was. But even with it's gains, Yotsuba would have had a death. It would be a victim of the same mysterious deaths, just like all the other companies.

And being a victim ultimately meant that you were innocent.

With the conclusion of the meeting, and upon his arrival at home, the first thing Namikawa did was feed the Shinigami. Though it didn't need to eat, it seemed to be fond of some human foods. In this case, salty pork ramen.

Being a Shinigami didn't necessarily mean you had taste, Namikawa decided.

And right before bed that night, Namikawa went to his desk, opening one drawer and removing the fake bottom. Picking up the Death Note inside, he flipped open to where he had left off, picking up his favorite pen. In an easy, flowing script, he wrote;

Kyosuke Higuchi, 11:45 Falls down stairs and breaks his neck. Dies instantly.

Putting down his pen and returning the Death Note to its hiding spot, Namikawa bid Gukku good-night, reminding him not to break anything, before climbing into bed and falling asleep.

The next day, he made his mouth fall open and his eyes widen in shock upon hearing of Higuchi's untimely death. A terrible accident, the man had said.

A terrible accident indeed.

* * *

For the past few days, though he went on with life as if nothing had happened, Raito had been unable to get Ryuk's uncharacteristically solemn words out of his head.

"_You must be a very boring person."_

Raito knew that couldn't be the case. It just couldn't! It wasn't his fault that life was so boring! He wasn't to blame for that, or for anything else! What did the stupid Shinigami know anyway? He was wrong, the problem couldn't be with Raito, because Raito was-

He froze in his tracks, allowing the sentence to cycle around in his head.

Because Raito was perfect.

And maybe that was it. Maybe, in the end, that was all there was to it.

Maybe, for all people strove for perfection, in the end…

Perfection was _drop dead boring._

Yes.

That was it.

_That was it._

"Raito, what are you doing?"

Raito ignored Ryuk, tilting his head back to look up at the sky. The clear, blue sky. It really was blue, wasn't it? And so endless, stretching over the expanses and farther than the eye could see…

For the first time, Raito could see why people made such a big deal about it. It was such an endless, pretty blue. And that's all there was to it.

And that was okay.

He knew he should be walking home from school right now, at this very second he should have been turning onto the corner of his street. Then he should have walked in the door, been welcomed home by his mom, and walked up to his room. Where he should have spent the rest of the night doing his homework and studying.

_And it was all okay._

Turning around, he started walking back towards the school, still ignoring Ryuk's incredulous questioning. He stopped at a corner, waiting until the scheduled bus pulled up, and bought a ticket. He was silent for the entire ride, until they made it downtown. Stepping off, he took a moment to get his bearings.

"What are you doing, Raito?"

He finally answered.

"We're running away, Ryuk."

And for the first time in his life, everything was okay.

_He was going to be okay._

* * *

_Light remembered the day that he had been kidnapped quite clearly, as though it had happened yesterday. He had only been seven, but even then, he had possessed a photographic memory. He remembered every detail of the incident, from Sayu to the crash to the kidnapping to the room to the gun to the blood._

_He remembered all of it. Which was probably why the police had insisted upon his testimony in the trial against the remaining criminals. Excluding the one that had been killed, of course. And his father had allowed it, being an officer himself and understanding how much Raito might help the prosecution. Being a sweet, innocent little child and all._

_He had tried, photographic memory and all, to forget the fact that his father had refused to let Sayu take the stand as well._

_He hadn't hesitated to tell everything he knew and had seen during the incident, letting his testimony flow out as easily as he might say his multiplication tables._

_But still, even with overwhelming evidence against them, someone had paid off the jury in the end, and the men had gone free. Without so much as a slap on the wrists._

_Afterwards, as they had watched their kidnappers leave the courthouse, climb into their attorney's cars and drive away free men, Raito's father had come up behind him, placing a heavy hand on Raito's shoulder._

"_It's okay son," He had said, his voice thick. "It's okay."_

_No it's not, Raito thought._

_It's not okay._

_It never is._

_And it never will be._

* * *

L bit lightly on his thumb, staring intently at the wall in front of him. His eyes, wide for the most part, would squint every once in a while, as if in deep thought.

His laptop was open on the table beside him, with numerous e-mails and alerts popping onto the screen. L ignored them though, too caught up in whatever he was thinking of at the moment to spare them any of his precious attention.

He shifted slightly, drawing his knees even closer to his chest, as he leaned forward, his eyebrows furrowing.

Watari bustled around the room, picking up a discarded book here, throwing away an empty wrapper there, refilling all the bowls of candy he came across for his charge. He didn't pause in his work until he noticed L leaning back, removing his thumb from his mouth. It seemed as though the detective had reached whatever conclusion he had been working toward.

"Watari."

Watari gave the man his full attention.

L paused for a moment before pointing to the wall in front of him, or rather, the painting hanging on the wall in front of him.

"That painting is crooked. Please move it a half centimeter to the left."

Watari nodded, walking over to the painting and doing as L had requested. L looked at the painting once more, seemingly fascinated by the barren wasteland it depicted, before nodding in satisfaction. Finally, he stood up, stretching his legs and walking over towards the laptop.

Only to walk past it, sitting down in the chair on the other side of the room, beginning to stare intently at a painting of a bowl of apples. Watari held back a small sigh, going back to his endless work.

Ah L, he thought fondly.

Whatever would he do with him?

* * *

A/N: Yup, it's that time again. When I write about whatever happens to be on my mind at the end of typing up this chapter, and call it an author's note.

And what I'm thinking about right now happens to be the fact that my keyboard is really sticky from when I spilled applesauce on it last night. Wasn't my fault, just for the record. I have a really fat cat, and she's a snuggler.

And she has a fetish for my laptop. Slightly disturbing, that.

But, anyway. Pretty long chapter this time, so I'm happy. I tend to hit my head against something when I think I've posted two short a chapter, which would explain my headache when I posted the prologue. But yeah. And I didn't take too terribly long to type it up either… (And L finally came in! Even if it was just for a minute there at the end...)

…I'm pretty sure some of you are reading this and thinking that I have no life.

Well, bite me. I hate you.

Because you're right…

SUPER SPARKLY THANKS TO NILAHXAPIEL FOR BETA-ING FOR ME! I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'D DO WITHOUT YOU!!

And that's about it. Just tell me if you have any more questions about anything, and I'll be sure to explain. Oh, and as always… I LOVE REVIEWS LIKE MY OWN CHILDREN, but I don't demand them.

So yeah, till next time.


	4. Chapter 3

**This Black Lamb**

**Deathnote AU**

**L x Raito**

Disclaimer: I do not own Deathnote or any of its characters. If I did, Aizawa wouldn't have waited till after L died to cut off that hideous afro. He'd have never had it to begin with.

* * *

**Chapter 3 - Hunger**

Soichiro headed home from work as usual, walking down the street in the dark, the sun long since set. The last time he had glanced at a clock, it had been midnight, and he'd had to stay another half hour to finish up his report. Another half hour had seen him stepping off the subway, ready for his fifteen minute walk home. So, he estimated it was half past one in the morning. His family should be in bed, so he'd have to be quiet coming in so he didn't wake them up.

He was surprised when he walked in the front door, only to see his wife and Sayu sitting on the living room couch, wide awake. Both had anxious expressions on their faces, and Sayu was clutching her old baby blanket to her chest like a lifeline, despite the fact that she had stopped sleeping with it years ago.

Something was wrong. And not just from the look on their faces, as they turned panicked eyes up at him. Looking around, he realized what was missing.

"Where's Raito?"

His alarm grew as Sayu let out a small sound of desperation, quickly standing up and dashing to her room. His eyes followed her up the staircase, fierce with concern, until they snapped back down to his wife, questioning.

"Sachiko, where is Raito?"

He watched his wife's hands grasp at each other, the knuckles turning white.

"Raito… didn't come home today, Soichiro."

Soichiro Yagami felt his heart stop.

* * *

"Why are we doing this again?"

Raito glanced over his shoulder at Ryuk, an annoyed expression apparent upon his surprisingly dirty features. He didn't let his eyes linger though, the odd contortion Ryuk had forced his body into due to apple withdrawal a bit much for him. His stomach hurt enough without adding nausea to his mental checklist of 'unpleasant sensations to which he was not accustomed'.

"I've already told you a million times, Ryuk. Stop making me repeat myself."

"You could at least humor me, since I've been good and gone without so much as one apple for an entire week…"

"Oh, how horrible for you. I'll remind myself to cry about it later. And I don't know where you got the idea you've been good, considering every time you've opened your mouth for the last six days its been to whine. You don't even need to eat, unlike me, and I haven't complained once!"

"That's because this was your idea. And I never would have gone along with it if I'd known you had a fetish for self-torture…"

"Ryuk. Shut up."

Was it really so much to ask that the Shinigami leave Raito to wallow in his own misery for a few minutes? He stubbornly blocked out the section of his brain that said he had brought this down upon himself. Then he strangled the little voice that saw fit to mention that Ryuk had a point about that self-torture thing… feeling the breath behind the annoyance whoosh out one final time before letting it fall to the ground, kicking the corpse a few times, and stabbing it with a theoretical hatchet.

Ah… much better. Now that his state of mind was locked in place once more, Raito allowed himself to go over his plan in his head, and hopefully in the process figure out…

What the HELL he had been thinking!?

Okay, start at the beginning. Before he had started smoking an unknown substance subconsciously and fucked everything up. He had decided, approximately one week ago, to run away. His life was boring, and as long as he remained confined to the established role of perfect son, student, brother… he would be caged in a never ending cycle of monotony until one day he finally snapped. Therefore, running away was, in hindsight, a good idea.

But now, the result was sitting here, in a dirty, unnamed ally, looking like a dirty, unnamed person with a companion only he could see to talk to. And talking to something only you could see was not a very good sign in most cases, which would account for the odd stares and the wide berth he was being given, if his physical state weren't reason enough. He was dirty, smelly, his clothes raggedy and ruffled, and he looked the exact antithesis of everything one Raito Yagami had previously stood for.

On top of that, he was hungry. And he would rather DIE than sink to rummaging through garbage.

Yes, running away to escape monotony and find some reason - ANY reason - for existence was a good idea. Running away with no money, nothing of value on his person, and no plan of action was, in hindsight, a very bad idea.

Damn, was he hungry.

His stomach was so empty, it felt almost concave, like the organs were withering away and shrinking further in from lack of nourishment. It was a cleaving feeling to his center, one he had become well accustomed to the last few days. The first pangs of hunger he had felt, the second day, while new and surprising, had been ignorable. Those had gradually grown to a gnawing hunger so great, he felt if he didn't eat soon, his body would begin eating itself.

But he had no money. Nothing of value. No plan of action. To any onlooker, he was simply another homeless kid on the street, dirty and not worth anyone's notice. He wasn't Raito Yagami, perfect student, genius really, class president, son of the director of the NPA, school idol and all around good person. Here… he was just another face in the crowd.

Another vulnerable lamb in a helpless flock. And somehow, despite the hunger, the embarrassment, the dirt and the stench…

The thought was strangely liberating.

But at the same time, he would never be one of them. Because Raito was a genius. Because Raito had once been above the flock, been the wolf to their sheep. The predator to their prey. So even now, when he was willingly among them, he was separate, something distant, something worthy of their fear.

He felt the weight of his Death Note in his backpack, heard the shifting of the discontent Shinigami behind him. Looking down at his hand, he could no longer see the pure white he had once shown so brilliantly with.

All he could see was black. A black as dark as a notebook that controlled death, as the wings of the Shinigami it had once belonged to….

As black as the filthy hunger biting at his innards, demanding it be fed.

For the first time that day Raito stood. Fixing his hair out of habit, he straightened his clothes and brushed them off to look almost passable, acceptable at first glance. A subtle gesture to Ryuk had the Shinigami following behind him as he made his way through the streets, finally reaching the outdoor market he had spotted two days before. Walking in, he allowed his eyes to wander, finally catching sight of the kiosk he'd been searching for.

A clean, neat little stand, owned by a kind old widower. Not an extra cent to her name, out to sell her wares in the heat of the noon-day sun, hoping to feed the young child she had taken in off the street out of the kindness of her heart with the meager earnings she gained from the days toil, neglecting her own self and needs in the process. Raito snorted. Sometimes his mind was too melodramatic for its own good.

More likely she was some old hag a big company had hired to play off people's natural sympathies to sell their chemically produced wares, and she was getting paid more than the average salary man to do it. Yes, that sounded much better. He had thought for a second there that he was actually allowing himself to be dragged into it all, this thing other people liked to call life. But no, Raito was above all that, whatever his situation. And he saw all this for exactly what it was.

A total farce.

Raito took advantage of the loud, crowded street to speak to Ryuk, since nobody was paying him any mind in any case.

"Hey, Ryuk. I know that you can't take things from the human world that aren't given to you, thus your inability to take those apples over there on your own…"

"…This coming to a point, or are you just being a jackass?"

Raito took that as confirmation. "But technically, that doesn't mean you can't, let's say, touch something, does it? For example, knock something over…?"

Ryuk was silent for a moment, before erupting into rolling successions of "Hyuk, hyuk…" Raito let a slightly evil smirk grow on his face for a moment, once more thanking whatever it was, fate perhaps, that had made sure it was Raito that had picked up Ryuk's Death Note. It was refreshing to have someone he didn't have to explain himself or his actions to, to have someone who understood and would go along without complaint. A partner in crime, per say, no pun intended.

It was supremely ironic that the one thing Raito had been searching for his whole life had only been found in a God of Death.

"Wait until I've been there a minute or two before you do anything Ryuk, we - well, I - can't afford to seem too suspicious. You understand?"

"Yeah yeah, I got it…" With that less than assuring confirmation, Ryuk unfolded his wings, relocating himself to hover at the booth to the apple kiosk's left, his grin anticipatory and his body finally unwound.

Raito didn't waste a moment before walking to the far right side of the display of apples, bending down to examine the fruit. He could feel his mouth watering as his stomach gurgled, the sound thankfully drowned out by the hustle and bustle of those around him. The old woman appeared to take no notice of him, but Raito didn't doubt for a moment that she had already memorized his face and appearance, and was ready to scream 'thief' if he so much as picked up an apple to weigh it in his hand before she saw some cash.

Counting in his head, Raito refused to acknowledge the nervousness curling in his belly as the number kept getting higher and higher… 60 seconds… 90 seconds… 100 seconds… where the hell was that stupid… don't look up there, that'll look suspicious, you can't seem as though you know anything… 120 seconds… damn it all to hell, that son of a-

Finally, the roof on the stand to his left suddenly collapsed, scattering oranges in every direction, and causing all heads within its immediate vicinity to swivel, mouths gaping as they observed the damage and the furiously cursing booth owner.

Raito didn't hesitate to reach forward, his hands closing around two deep red apples amid the confusion.

* * *

_Raito's eyes were flat and bored as he stared at the TV screen, obviously less than interested in the movie he was watching. Aladin, he believed it was called, a stupid import movie from America that his mother had gotten him for his birthday. And despite the fact that he was playing it in English, just to see if he was fluent enough to understand (he was), the movie was boring as hell. Politics would have been more stimulating. Perhaps even golf._

_Anything but this mindless happily ever after bullshit._

_He was only about twenty minutes into the movie, he estimated, another hour or so to go. But he had to watch it at least once, or his mother would be disappointed. And Raito's mother, for whatever inexplicable reason one could come up with, was the only person Raito couldn't stand to make unhappy. It just… unsettled something deep inside him, a gnawing, almost hungry feeling that he just couldn't drown out once it was there._

_And so, he was sitting in front of the television, wasting an hour and a half of his life watching this foreign waste of time and effort. Delightful._

_Raito's eyebrows furrowed suddenly as he watched. Reaching for the remote, he rewound the movie about ten seconds, his eyes intent. Then he did it again. And again. And again._

"_Father." Raito called, taking advantage of the fact that his father was home on a Saturday (for once). His father responded quickly, walking into the room, a few files held in his hand as he continued to skim their contents._

"_Yes, Raito? Are you enjoying your new movie?"_

_Raito ignored the question. "Father, why does the man threaten to cut off Jasmine's hand for stealing an apple? If you don't mind me saying, Disney usually tries to stay away from violent implications, so I just thought it was odd."_

_Soichiro glanced up, peering at the image of the shop keeper holding up his sword, frozen on the screen. After a moment of thought, he finally answered, his tone a bit thoughtful. "Well, I imagine they were trying to be historically accurate, Raito. Back then, the punishment for stealing really was getting a hand or both cut off. A bit harsh by today's standards, and hardly reasonable."_

_Raito thought on it for a moment, finally nodding as he came to his own conclusion. "On the contrary father, I find it very reasonable. The logic behind the idea is flawless."_

"_Excuse me?"_

_Raito ignored the incredulous tone, going on, "It makes sense you see, as well as makes a statement about their ideas on society and how to keep it in order. The human body represents all of society, and when the hand of the body stole the apple, in this case," Raito nodded toward the television. "It represented crime within society. Therefore, the idea is to cut off the tainted body part , in effect, removing the troublesome area of society, in other words, the criminals. Remove them, destroy the problem, and leave a lesson to whatever, or whoever remains."_

"_But Raito, surely you don't believe… that anyone who steals should have their hands cut off? Sometimes, people have no choice, or have a mental illness, or don't know what they're doing-"_

"_No, father." Raito clicked the play button, settling down to watch the pointless film once more._

"_There is **no** excuse for any crime, **ever**."_

* * *

Raito didn't run after he had grabbed up the apples, no, that would just be stupid. It would catch everyone's attention, practically screamed 'hey look, I'm stealing shit!', and he wasn't sure he had enough energy to run even if he wanted to. So he tucked the apples inside his backpack, turning to look at the destruction with everyone else. He had to hold back a smirk as he saw Ryuk hovering over the destruction, doing what looked a great deal like a happy dance.

Once the crowd began to disperse, Raito felt safe in his theft, walking away from the stand without a backward glance. Quickly navigating several streets and cutting through a park, he found himself in the same ally he had been in that very morning. He supposed that now, since he had instinctively come back to it, it could be claimed as 'his'. If only for temporary purposes. Taking out the two apples, he didn't even flinch at the dark shadow that passed over his body, dropping down to sit in front of him. Ryuk's eyes were bulging more than usual, the Shinigami almost drooling as he focused on the apple in Raito's left hand.

Well, may as well feed the dog first. He'd been a good boy and done his part, after all.

Raito tossed Ryuk the apple, the Shinigami only strengthening Raito's mental comparison of him to a large, hideous Labrador Retriever as he jumped into the air, wasting no time before eating the apple as he caught it between his teeth. Charming, Ryuk, absolutely charming.

Holding his own apple in both hands, and doing his best to ignore the near orgasmic sounds of the feasting Shinigami next to him, Raito paused to take in the moment. While the apple was nothing special to the God of Death, or at least, not any more special than any other apple, the fruit he held in his hands represented a lot to Raito.

It was proof of his first crime. It was the first food he had eaten since he had run away. It was the first material thing he had gained through his own efforts, showing that he existed in more than just grades and test scores.

He took a deep swallow, his stomach twisting, nearly forcing him to slowly raise the apple to his dry, chapped lips. Pressing the apple to his mouth for a moment, almost in imitation of a kiss, he finally allowed his teeth to sink into the crisp, red flesh, the juice hitting his tongue and sliding down his throat.

He couldn't help but feel later, that while the weight of the apple in his belly felt like a small piece of heaven…

…the apple itself had tasted of nothing but sin.

* * *

Hitoshi Demegawa felt the sweat trickling down his back as he stared at the seemingly innocent notebook, flipped open on his desk. He swallowed, considering removing his trademark sports jacket as the room suddenly felt too hot. His frantic eyes moved to the TV once more, seeing the collapsed body of one of his biggest competitors, watching as paramedics quickly removed the man from the view of the cameras. He stood frozen, as just ten minutes later an announcer came on screen, solemnly declaring the man dead.

Dead. Of cardiac arrest.

A heart attack.

Demegawa had killed him. He had killed a man. He didn't know how to handle this, what was he going to do? He could be thrown in jail, should be thrown in jail, once they found out-

But wait. How would they find out? It wasn't as though they knew of the Death Note, or its mysterious powers. And even if they had, they had no way to know he had possession of such an item, and no proof that he was involved in any way. Which meant…

He had killed a man. And he would never get caught, because nobody would be able to prove that the incident was murder in the first place.

Quickly walking over to his computer, still giving the Death Note a wide berth, Demegawa logged onto his account, quickly bringing up the stats page for the different TV stations in the Tokyo area. His breath caught, half in surprise and half in delight, as he saw his competitors viewer count dropping rapidly, his own slowly but surely beginning to rise. This was- the Death Note - there would be no evidence - he could - he could…

He could kill anyone he wanted, and come out white as snow. His pudgy hand shook on the computer mouse, a slow, ugly smirk making its way across his face. Oh, this - he could use this.

Taking a deep breath and gathering every ounce of courage in his flabby body, Demegawa turned and strode determinedly to the notebook spread open on his table. Sitting down, he rubbed sweaty palms against the fabric of his pants, leaving wet, salty stains in their wake. No matter, he would soon be able to afford fifty new pairs of pants, if things went his way. Yes, and much more than that. A whole new wardrobe, a flashy sports car, maybe even a private yacht….

Lost in his daydreams, it took a moment for him to snap back into reality. He was getting ahead of himself. Before he could have any of that, he had a job to do, first and foremost. Picking up a black ball-point pen, he set the tip to the second line on the white paper, trying to decide who to kill next. It didn't really matter, he was going to kill them all, but still, it was a tough decision. Finally, a devastatingly handsome, tan face came to mind, silky black hair falling in front of dark eyes. Yes, that bastard would do nicely, thought he was so great because he was good looking…

Furiously writing down names in the notebook, Demegawa never noticed the dark, winged figure lurking in the corner, watching him with curious, red eyes.

* * *

Compared to America, L dully concluded, Japan was really, really… boring.

Not only did they not appreciate the true worth of strawberry cake, or pie, or ice cream, or candy… they had no 24 hour movie channel for him to veg in front of, when he was in the right mood.

So is life, he thought, finally tossing the remote down, his incessant clicking stopping on some news channel. Sighing, he flopped back on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, before his eyes were inevitably drawn to the painting on the wall in front of him. The barren wasteland. He knew, on the wall behind him, there was a painting of a bowl of apples. Though vastly different subjects, both pieces had been painted by the same person, as had the one piece hung in his room, directly across from his large, four poster bed. A painting of nothing but wide, red eyes.

Eyes reminiscent of the artist's himself.

Yes, Beyond was nothing if not an accomplished painter, L decided, observing the flawless detail of the piece before him. Any one of his compositions could have easily sold at any art gallery, no matter how disturbing the content. But for whatever reason, after he had painted the pieces (presumably out of boredom, seeing as how he was incarcerated in the highest security prison the U.S. had to offer, with no chance of getting out in this life time), he had requested that they be sent to Wammy house, the note attached plainly reading that they were gifts meant for L himself.

Why that freak wanted to give him, the man who had continually outdone him and sent him to prison, he had no idea. But he had never claimed to know what went on in that demented mind.

Not that he wasn't curious as to what exactly that mind was hiding. But he certainly wasn't going to march himself down to the prison to speak with the man and ask him. Oh yes, he was sure that would go over well with Beyond Birthday. "Hi there, I'm L, the man you've always tried to outdo but have never quite managed. Sorry about that, by the way. Now, I was wondering, what exactly are you thinking about at the moment? Don't mind me, just tell me anything, I promise, your secrets are safe with me."

…

The percentage of THAT working were so close to zero he wasn't even going to calculate the actual value.

But L was sure that there was a reason the man had painted these for him, almost as though he were giving him clues to… well, something. They mocked him in their mystery, taunting him to try and figure out the message within their macabre scenes. And there was a message in them, he knew. And if there was anyone that could find that message, it was L.

Though his attempts up to this point had met nothing but frustration and no small amount of rage.

Finally L allowed his eyes to fall closed, beginning to get a headache from the sheer impossibility of the task before him. L knew he could do many things most humans would find beyond their abilities, but this was daunting. Frustrating. Mocking.

Just like the man who had painted them.

But enough. He didn't want to think of Beyond any more than he already had. This 'vacation' Watari had suggested was turning out to be crappy enough without that wacko stuck in his head. But L knew just what would make him feel better after a completely craptacular day.

Ice cream. Lots of it. Preferably the kind with cookie dough balls.

He had just risen, intending to walk to the kitchen and retrieve his yummy treat, when there was a commotion on the TV screen. Looking back, L sucked in a surprised breath at the sight of the news anchor laying on top of the studio desk, not moving or breathing. Waiting a moment, he watched as the paramedics came in, carting the man away.

Well, that was unexpected.

But L shrugged it off, after all, the man wasn't terribly young, and that stuff happened. Remembering his quest, he quickly walked into the kitchen, opening the freezer and locating the ice cream of choice. Ten seconds of defrosting, a quick search for the whipped cream and one big-ass spoon later, L found himself on the couch again, shoveling in the cookie-dough flavored goodness. He turned his attention back to the TV just in time for the announcer to come on, informing viewers that the what's-his-name reporter was dead of cardiac arrest.

Ouch. That couldn't be helping their ratings.

But now that the disaster was over, the news program turned out to be, surprise surprise, a total snore. L picked the remote back up, flipping through the channels once more, albeit more slowly this time around. He finally found another news program, seeing an insignia on the little box in the corner of the screen (he forgot what they were called, but if the great L couldn't remember, it wasn't that important anyway). They must have been detailing his last successful case. Ah yes, if he remembered, one of the informants had been Japanese…

For the second time that night, L's attention was captured by a scream on the television, and he watched, his eyes getting wider and wider, as the handsome young reporter clutched his chest, yelling as he collapsed forward, before going still a few seconds later. Spoon sliding slowly from his mouth to drop on the floor, L's mind flew back to the reporter who had died not ten minutes ago due to a…

…heart attack.

He was in an abrupt whirl of motion as he began throwing the magazines on the small TV table in every direction, desperately looking for the TV guide. Finally finding it (next to last, damn his luck), he searched through its contents frantically, finally finding the name of another prominent news station. Quickly changing the channel, he pulled his knees up to his chest, watching the hosts intently, looking for any signs of illness. Ten minutes later, he was still watching, wondering if the night's events had been some kind of sick coincidence.

Until the middle-aged woman on the screen clutched her chest, her breath coming out in desperate gasps before she collapsed. And stopped moving.

Cardiac arrest. A heart attack. Just like the others. Cardiac arrest. A heart attack. Just like the oth-

L snapped his eyes back to the booklet folded open in his lap, quickly turning to another news channel, just in time to see another man collapse. Another one, a ten minute wait, and the fresh from college news anchor went down with a high pitched scream. And the one after that. And the one after that.

In the next hour, fifteen news announcers and hosts of popular shows had died of heart attacks on-air. And those were only the one's L had seen.

What the hell was going on?

Staring down at his toes, L stuck one hand out slowly, picking up the hotels phone and dialing the number for the next room over. It rang twice before it was answered, the voice on the other side one of a polite elderly man.

"This is Watari."

"Watari."

"L?"

"Have you watched the news at all tonight?"

"No, I can't say I have. Any particular reason why?"

"Maybe." L bit his lip, wiggling his toes absentmindedly. "It's just that I have a hunch we might need to extend our little 'vacation.'"

* * *

Kiyomi Takada raced towards the news station, out of breath and running late. Add that to the fact that she didn't want to be at this particular station in the first place, and it all added up to a rotten mood. Not that she was going to let it show on her face, but still.

Ah, the joys of being an intern. Only she would be sent out at this time of night to deliver some less than urgent documents to a place like Sakura TV. The station more notorious for its - pardon her language - bullshit than a herd of Kobe cows. And that was saying something.

Hurrying in the door, she nodded to the receptionist, quickly making her way to the elevator and pushing the button for the top floor. It was nice that Sakura TV was such a shabby place, or she might have to wait around while the head honcho was in a meeting. As it was, she doubted he had a meeting in the next month.

Stepping on, she winced as her ears were assaulted by the most hideous elevator music she had heard in her life. Dear lord, what century was this from? But she pressed her lips into a firm line, refusing to let the complete lack of taste in the building get to her. Much.

Finally she made it, and breathed a small sigh of relief as she stepped out of the musty little box, immediately making her way to the door down the hall. Stopping in front of it, she raised her hand to knock, only to freeze in shock as loud screams began emerging from the room in front of her. Slowly lowering her hand, she turned her head, straining her ears to try and figure out what was going on.

"NO, NO, P-PLEASE, DON'T HURT ME, I'LL DO ANYTHING!!"

Takada blinked. It sounded as though the man were being threatened. But who would bother threatening a man like Demegawa?

"I'M SORRY, I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS Y-YOURS! PLEASE FORGIVE ME, KAMI-SAMA!"

Kami-sama? What the hell was this man talking about? More importantly, who was he talking to?

"N-NO! D-D-DON'T TOUCH ME! D-DON'T COME ANY C-CLOSER! AAAAAGGGHHH!!"

Takada nearly had her head taken off as the door slammed open, taking a quick step back so she wasn't hit. Her mouth fell open slightly as she was greeted by the sight of a scared shitless Demegawa, his face pale and sweating profusely while his eyes darted all over the place, finally settling on Takada. Mouth falling open in shock, he stared at her for a moment, before looking down at his chest.

Where he appeared to be clasping a black notebook…?

Suddenly said notebook was shoved into her hands, as Demegawa rushed past her, an almost insane smile on his piggish features. He cackled as he headed straight for the stairwell, not even bothering with the elevator.

"IT'S YOURS NOW, AND MAY YOU TAKE THAT DAMN MONSTER WITH YOU! DO WITH IT WHAT YOU WILL, IT'S NOT MY PROBLEM ANYMORE!!" The man sounded positively gleeful as he stepped into the stairwell, and she heard his frantic footsteps as he began to run down.

…What the hell was that all about?

Takada looked down at the notebook clutched in her arms. Looked pretty normal to her. Flipping it over, she was surprised to find words on the cover.

Death Note? What was…

A dark shadow fell over the cover of the book, and Takada looked up.

And found herself face to face with a monster.

She didn't scream, only because her throat was paralyzed in terror. Trembling, she watched as the creature tipped its head to the side, almost like a curious kitten. It took a few minutes of panic, but she finally noticed that the creature was making no move to hurt her, or to do anything really. It was just standing there.

Closing her eyes, she let her breath out through her nose, regaining her composure. Opening them once more, she was able to address the monster in an almost normal manner.

"Who are y-you?"

The monster seemed to grin, if that wasn't him snarling his teeth.

"My name is Deridovely, and I'm your Shinigami."

"M-my Shinigami?"

"Yup. That guy gave up ownership of the notebook to you, so as long as you own the Death Note, I have to follow you around. It's just the rules, I don't make them."

"The Death Note?"

Now that she knew it wasn't going to hurt her - it had said follow, not eat - she felt more comfortable, or at least as comfortable as she could feel in the current situation. Bending her head down, she examined the notebook in her arms once more, flipping open the front cover.

_The human whose name is written in this notebook shall die._

As she read, Takada felt a calm descend upon her. No wonder that fool had been scared; he didn't even know what he had had in his possession. Not really. And thinking it was a curse, he had immediately thrust it upon her without a second thought. Tried to save himself.

That selfish pig. She hated men like him.

But he didn't save himself. In fact, she thought as she retrieved a felt tip pen from her pocket, uncapping it with vindictive anger, he had just signed his death warrant. People willing to let others suffer to save themselves didn't deserve to live.

Especially not after killing all the innocent reporters she had seen written on the first page of his book. All those people dead, just so he could make a few dollars.

She was doing the world a favor by getting rid of him, she thought, imagining his disgusting, portly face in her mind as she wrote the last kanji for his name.

The Shinigami in front of her laughed, seemingly pleased.

A minute later, after setting the files she had brought over on Demegawa's desk, Takada walked back to the elevator, pushing the button for the first floor. She walked out of the large building, heading home, ignoring the Shinigami floating behind her. She wasn't worried, she'd be long gone before anything was found amiss.

Because under the names of 22 well-known TV faces, was written;

_Hitoshi Demegawa 9:52 P.M. Falls down stairs at Sakura TV. Is not found until morning._

* * *

It had taken Misa a few days, but she had finally gotten used to idea that Rem, yes, did in fact exist, and would follow her wherever she went. All because of that stupid Death Note she had been given because some stupid Shinigami had died to save her.

Well, let it be known that one Misa Amane was NOT grateful, since she had never asked to be saved in the first place. Besides, the idea of a Shinigami in love with her was really just gross, especially if he looked anything like Rem.

No offense to Rem or anything. She was actually really nice, once Misa got over the whole 'big scary monster only I can see' thing. She was great to talk to, and she never had to worry about her blabbing Misa's secrets, since nobody else could see or hear her.

And she was a nice bodyguard for when Misa had to walk home alone after dark, like right now.

After a few more miles, Misa finally came to her house, pulling out her key attached to the most ADORABLE kitty keychain that she just hadn't been able to live without . Walking in, she threw her bag to the side, heading to her room after grabbing her non-fat yogurt from the fridge.

She opened up her desk drawer, taking out the Death Note and flipping it open on her bed.

Tonight. She was finally going to do it, tonight. She hadn't been able to do it yet, too scared to be a murderer, but she had finally talked herself into it.

Tonight, her parents' murderer was going to die.

Touching the tip of her pretty sparkle purple gel-pen to the page, she felt a tremor run through her, and nearly stopped. She could feel Rem's eyes on her, but she refused to back down. Not again. He deserved this, her parents deserved this.

Hell, she deserved this.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to relax and take some enjoyment in this moment. The moment where justice would finally be served for her family, once and for all. Picturing the man's face in her head, the one face in the world she could never forget, she quickly scrawled his Kanji across the page, not bothering to be neat about it.

She opened her eyes to watch her lock, holding her breath until forty seconds had finally passed. And suddenly, she could breath again. It was over, just like that. A burden had been lifted off her shoulders, the man was dead, and she was free.

She offered Rem a happy smile as she put the Death Note back in her drawer, watching as it was hesitantly returned. Rem really was too serious for her own good, Misa would have to help her with that. She held a modest hand over her mouth as she yawned.

Maybe tomorrow. She had some beauty sleep to catch at the moment.

Crawling into bed, she said a quick goodnight before turning out the lights. It was only a few minutes before she fell asleep, breathing peacefully as Rem stood guard over her bed, white skin glowing faintly in the moonlight.

* * *

"_Father."_

"_Yes, Raito?"_

"_What is death?"_

_Soichiro looked at his son, surprised the young genius would ask him anything. Raito never asked ANYONE anything, he just seemed to always know. So it was understandable that he was caught off guard. But that didn't mean he wouldn't answer._

"_I guess… it's just what comes after. Nobody KNOWS what death is son, all we know is that it comes after life."_

_Raito looked up at him. "So… it is the absence of life?"_

"_In a sense." Soichiro frowned. "But some believe it is a new life, or the end of this life cycle and the beginning of another one."_

"_So, who's right?"_

"_I couldn't say."_

_It was silent for a few minutes, while Soichiro watched his son try to grapple with the concept of death. He wasn't sure why a nine year old felt it necessary to think of such things, but, on the other hand, it was Raito. And that spoke for itself._

"_I think… death is the opposite of life."_

"_Hmm? What makes you say that?"_

"_Because…" Raito's brows furrowed. "Death cannot exist in the same place as life, and life cannot be where there is death. They cannot coexist in a being at once, there can be no compromise, no 'living-dead.' Therefore, they are the opposites of one another."_

"_That makes sense, I suppose." A lot more than his own explanation had._

"_But that also means they need one another."_

"_Come again?"_

"_They are opposites. Without death, there could be no life. Without life, there could be no death. Without each other, neither of them could ever exist."_

…_How did one respond to that?_

"_So, therefore, since death is the only reason life exists…" Raito continued on, his voice thoughtful and distant to his father's ears._

"_A person who loves life must also love death. Without one you cannot have the other. Death is just as necessary as life, if not more so, to our continued existence."_

_Raito paused, looking his father in the eyes, his face blank._

"_They are the same. Death is life and life is death. There is no difference. If humans want to live, they must accept…"_

_Raito turned away._

"_That someday, every man's time will come."_

_Soichiro took in a shaky breath._

"_Everyone will die, father. It's just a matter of when and how."_

"_Raito…"_

_His son turned back to him, a small smile on his face._

"_Father, how do you think I'll die?"_

_His blood ran cold._

* * *

A/N: Sorry everyone, this took a bit longer than the other chapters, but I've been working on other stories too. The first chapter of Singing Through The Silence should be coming out in the next few days, just needs to get betaed now. And I'm working on the first chapter of Valient, as well as a oneshot I'm thinking of calling Luck Of The Draw. Title may change with mood though. And since I've neglected it for so long, I'm gonna try to have the next chapter of A Matter Of Profit by next week, so yeah. The chapters of that one are just sooooo damn loooooong...

But I don't really have to say that much this time, other than congrats to Neverending Odyssey, it was Demegawa indeed, before I killed the pig! I don't like Takada much, but she was into news broadcasting too, so it made sense. Anyway, I just used Demegawa to get L's attention, since the other Kira's were being so discreet.

AND SUPER BIG THANKS TO NILAHXAPIEL, AS ALWAYS, FOR BEING MY SUPER-AMAZING-BETA-PERSON!!

And that's all for now, unless anyone has any questions? I can't really remember if there were any in the reviews... um, but just put them in really big letters so I don't forget them again if there are, okay?

Once again REVIEWS ARE THE LOVE OF MY LIFE AND BEYOND - but not demanded. So, yeah, I hope you enjoyed!


	5. Chapter 4

**This Black Lamb**

**AU Deathnote**

**L x Raito**

Disclaimer: I do not own Deathnote or any of its characters. If I did, Misa and Takada would go hump each other and leave Raito's gay ass alone. O O

* * *

**Chapter 4 - Omens**

Raito watched the giant screen intently, though his posture was relaxed as he leaned against the ally wall. His body language was the exact opposite of the crowd filling the sidewalk and street in front of him, most of them tense, some frantic, with an abundance of exclamations filling the air. He had been there for about ten minutes, on his walk back to what he thought of as his usual ally. He had left Ryuk there for the day, promising to bring him back an apple if he was good, and let Raito have some time to himself to relax.

So much for that.

It was only five more minutes before Raito got bored and had all the information he needed. He was convinced, not that he hadn't been from the start. Still, Ryuk had some explaining to do. He continually tossed the apple in the air, catching it gently in his hand so it didn't bruise. He allowed his mind to wander in the time it took him to get back to the Shinigami, just taking peace in the meaningless stroll. It was… nice, in its inefficiency. Just a walk for the sake of walking, not heading to or from school, or off on some errand for his mother. Just doing it because he felt like it. He had been doing a lot of that lately.

And he had to admit that he was growing to like it. Despite the fact that he had no money, more often than not only managed to scrounge a meal a day, and pretty much looked like a car crash… there was something about being on his own, making his own decisions for once that just put him at ease.

He stopped his line of thought as he spotted a twisted, dark, rather grotesque form in the gloom of his new "home." Raising an eyebrow, he was rather unimpressed with Ryuk's withdrawal symptoms. Besides, he found it fitting punishment for the Shinigami, due to the development he had just been informed of.

"Raito, Raito, did you bring an apple?" Ryuk sounded so eager, and was practically drooling as he hopped closer. Raito's grip on the apple tightened slightly.

"Yes, I brought an apple Ryuk."

"Yay! Apple! Give it here, give it here!" One of Ryuk's hands snaked out to grab the deep red fruit, but Raito jerked it out of reach before the Shinigami had a chance to claim it.

"But I don't think I'm going to give it to you."

There was an eruption of indignation and confusion from the Shinigami, as he heartily protested Raito's apparent "starvation" and "mistreatment" of his so-called "partner." Raito smirked, amused, as he sat down on an empty crate, watching the Shinigami contort and complain, before he finally moved towards the groveling and begging route. He should have known it would do him no good. Raito was not inclined to do anything about Ryuk's "apparent deprivation."

"Ryuk." He finally spoke, interrupting the latest barrage of gargled pleas. "When were you going to tell me there were more Deathnotes in human possession?"

Ryuk's silence was enough of the answer, and Raito brought the apple to his own mouth, biting in with a satisfying crunch.

* * *

Namikawa had been enjoying a nice evening at home when it happened. Nothing unusual had happened that day, and he had been pleased to open the newspaper that morning and see Yotsuba's stock had risen a few dollars. Higuchi's replacement was adapting to their job quite nicely, and had quickly filling the roles his "dearly departed" acquaintance had left understaffed. He had come home a bit early even, writing a few names down in the Deathnote, feeding Gukku his usual dinner of ramen, beef this time, and sitting down to the evening news.

Only to watch as the news anchor dropped dead of a heart attack right in the middle of an interesting segment on cloned cow meat. Shrugging it off, rather jaded to the subject of death at this point, he punched the channel button a few times, finally finding another suitable news channel.

Only to watch the news anchor suffer from cardiac arrest ten minutes later.

His hand shook on the remote, his eyes glazing.

One heart attack was an unfortunate accident. Two was flirting on the border of coincidence and there-is-no-fucking-way. Three, and there was no other explanation but…

He frantically clicked the button a few more times, coming onto a channel just in time to watch another reporter being dragged off camera, as the man clutched his chest.

Oh dear. This was… it couldn't be? Right?

"Gukku?"

He heard a few ineligible mumbles from the Shinigami, as it attempted to respond without removing its snout from its dinner. Shaking his head slightly, he turned, throwing one arm over the back of the couch. He regarded the Shinigami with serious eyes, trying to ignore how cute and… fluffy the thing looked as it slurped at it's food, it's long nose completely buried in the cup and eyes half lidded in contentment.

Shinigami weren't supposed to be "cute" or "fluffy" or "sweet"… he was pretty sure there was a rule about that somewhere…

"Were any Deathnotes dropped onto Earth, other than mine?"

It took a minute as the monster considered the question, though he suspected it was delaying more to finish its supper than to think about anything. Finally, with one last gulp, it put the cup down, turning its head to the side and regarding him with one eye. He kept it's gaze steadily, unwilling to back down.

"Well, yeah… I know for sure that Ryuk dropped Deridovely's notebook too, and maybe his own and some others, can't really be sure. After all, knowing Ryuk, he probably got as many notebooks as he could and just dropped them for the hell of it, though… I don't think he'd drop his own. At least, not on purpose, he doesn't do things that might be bad for him. Other Shinigami or humans, on the other hand… And I heard these rumors about Rem, and Gelus, so who knows at thi-"

"That's enough, thank you." Namikawa rubbed his temples, trying to sooth the headache gained by listening to his Shinigami's incoherent babbling. Really, he liked Gukku, really he did, but the Shinigami was an idiot. Point blank. Stark raving _mad_. And who the hell were all those people anyway?

"Okay, Gukku, let's start slow. First of all, who is Ryuk?"

"Ryuk's a buddy of mine. He's the one that tricked me out of my Deathnote and dropped it."

And he's still your friend? Namikawa couldn't help but think. But he wasn't going to say it… he still wasn't exactly sure how emotional Gukku was, or whether he'd get insulted or huffy or refuse to answer his questions if he asked something like that. So he would just avoid making derogatory comments until they had known each other a bit longer.

"Okay, so Ryuk is a Shinigami who dropped your notebook. Next, who's Deridovely?"

"He's my gambling partner. Ryuk dropped his notebook too, so I know for sure he's down here on Earth with his Deathnote as well."

It occurred to him that Gukku and Deridovely must be pretty dumb even by Shinigami standards, if this Ryuk was able to trick them out of their notebooks so easily. Speaking of which…

"Is Ryuk down here on Earth as well?"

"Don't know. I'd say no, since Ryuk wouldn't give up his notebook so easy, but its hard to say. You never quite know what Ryuk's thinking sometimes."

Okay. That was one for sure, and one maybe. Better than it could have been.

"And this Rem? Gelus?"

"Oh, you don't have to worry about Gelus, he's dead." Shinigami could die? That was interesting… "But Rem, hm, she's like Ryuk, hard one to read. She picked up Gelus's note after he crumbled-" Pardon? Crumbled? "-so now she's got two of the things. Don't know what she was gonna do with two, but I did hear something about a human girl Gelus was interested in…"

Lovely, another- no, if the Shinigami had two notebooks, _two more_ maybes. This was getting more complicated than he was comfortable with. Add that to the fact that Gukku probably didn't have all the facts… ugh. If he'd known it would get this complicated, he wouldn't have picked up the blasted notebook in the first place!

…Okay, so he still would have picked it up. But this was turning into the biggest migraine of his life, that was for sure.

"Oi, boss, don't worry so much."

He raised an eyebrow. He had no idea where the "boss" had come from, but he wasn't going to complain. Gukku seemed like the follower type anyway, so that made him the leader of their duo.

…He couldn't believe he'd just called them a _duo_. His head must be worse than he thought.

"And why shouldn't I worry, pray tell?"

"Cause, even if there are more than two Deathnotes down here right now, there can never be more than six on Earth at once. Part of the rules, I think."

…

Six?

Was that supposed to make him feel better, or worse?

* * *

Sachiko carefully wrapped the last of the onigiri, gently placing it in the bottom of the clean, polished black bento in front of her and closing it up. She lifted it with as much care as she had in her, walking into the dining room and placing it next to a rather beaten, bright pink bento she had finished packing just minutes before.

She had only a few seconds to wait before she heard one - _only one_ - pair of feet pounding down the stairs, as dark pigtails came bouncing into view. She smiled at her cute daughter, bidding her a good day at school as the child grabbed her pink encased lunch, hurrying out the door with her shoes untied and pigtails uneven.

And she was left alone, her husband busy at work, her daughter running so as not to be late to school, and her son-

…and her son, _gone_.

She stared at the perfect bento in front of her, not a scratch on it's smooth, polished black surface. It was full of easy, healthy, bland food, what Raito usually ate, with a special little treat Sachiko knew he always ended up giving or throwing away. Her son was just like that, unable to eat anything outside of his perfect diet. But he always thanked her for that special treat anyway, when he came home.

Her sweet, sweet little boy.

She laid her head down beside the bento, and cried for what seemed the hundredth time.

* * *

Sayu slowed to a walk as she turned round the last corner, her school just at the end of the block. She was actually a little early today. Had actually been a little early for weeks. She supposed that was a good thing, in its own way…

But she was only early because there was nobody there to stop her on her way, to fix her makeup, or point out her untied shoes, or fix a lock of her hair behind one ear. There were no warm, caring, protective hands, no beautiful brown gold locks, no amber eyes to watch her back as she ran off. There was… nothing.

Her friends all told her it was okay to cry. Her teachers all said it was understandable if she was upset about her brother's disappearance. Her parents said absolutely nothing. So she wouldn't either.

They were being strong about this, just like Raito would have been strong, had it been the other way around, and Sayu were the one to go missing. Of course he would be upset - who wouldn't if their adorable little sister was just GONE one day? - but he would maintain his control, never let someone see him down. Never let stupid questions and sympathy from people who _just didn't understand_ get to him, because he was Raito. Her wonderful, missing big brother.

And she tried not to think the m-word, cause that made her eyes hurt and burn, and she wasn't about to cry. She really wasn't! Because Raito wouldn't want her to cry, it would mess up her makeup, and then he'd have to fix it for her again, and straighten her uniform, and wait with her until her face stopped being blotchy and red…

And she wouldn't cry. She had to make her brother proud. Because he was coming home, one day, she knew it. Daddy was looking for him, but she knew he wouldn't find him. Raito wasn't the type of person to be found. No, he would just waltz back in one day, as if he had never been gone at all, and straighten her pigtails and fix her makeup and make sure she looked just as pretty as she could be. Because that was just the way her big brother was.

And until then, when made sure her hair was always a little messy, her clothes a little wrinkled, and her makeup wasn't perfect. That way, when Raito came home…

…He'd know that she'd been waiting for him.

* * *

"…So, you're absolutely _sure_ that's all the Deathnotes on Earth right now?"

"Those are all the one's I know about. There might be more I don't. May I have an apple now, please, please?!"

Raito finally gave in, tossing Ryuk the apple he had snitched earlier that day. It had taken three days of withdrawal before Ryuk had finally given in and told him what he needed to know, but the Shinigami's addiction had gotten strong. Still, Raito had more important things to worry about than Ryuk's obsession with fruit…

The fact that there were three + Deathnotes currently in the human world, for instance.

He knew, on some level, that it didn't affect him all that much, while at the same time it did… It didn't, for the simple fact that Raito wasn't going to use the Deathnote, no matter how much the goddamn note tried to get him to. It had toned down after Ryuk's arrival, apparently admitting defeat for the time being. Raito was beyond grateful for that. While temptation wasn't something he had much of a problem ignoring, annoying little pests was another thing altogether.

But it did affect him since he didn't know how the other Deathnote owners would react to their new power. Or how they would use it. Business influence, settle old grudges, hell, world domination… the list was endless. Personally, Raito didn't want to have any part in the whole mess, but he didn't really have an option. As long as he had Ryuk and the notebook, he was a possible threat to the other owners, at least, that's how he would likely be viewed. And pretty smiles and prettier lies couldn't erase the Shinigami floating around behind him…

But how would they know he had a Deathnote? They couldn't see Ryuk, not unless they touched his note, and there wasn't a chance of that. Raito kept the notebook on his person at all times, and he wasn't about to let anyone get close enough to touch it… But still, it couldn't hurt to ask.

"Ryuk."

"Yeah?"

"Is there any way for someone to tell I'm a Deathnote holder, just from looking at me?"

"Um…" Ryuk's eyes rolled up to the sky in contemplation as his limbs slowly untangled, his addiction sated for the moment. "Well, there are no physical signs on the human body to tell, and people can't see me unless they touch the Deathnote, but… well. They have Shinigami's too, ya know? I'm not sure whether or not they're allowed to tell when they see another Shinigami, and there's also the eye deal to consider…"

"Pardon? Eye deal?"

"Oh yeah, haven't told you about that yet… didn't really see the point, since you aren't writing names in your Deathnote or nothing. But, in any case, you could make a deal with me to get Shinigami eyes, which would show you the name and lifespan of any person you happened to see at any given time."

"And in return?"

"Huh?"

"Don't play dumb with me Ryuk. I know damn good and well that to get those, I'd have to give up something of 'equal value' and all that rot. So, what would it be?"

"Uh… half your remaining lifespan."

That gave Raito pause, but only for a moment or two. "You know, I beginning to think _not_ using the Deathnote was the best decision of my life. God forbid I ever feel tempted by a crappy deal like _that_."

Tuning out Ryuk's grumbling, Raito leaned back against the wall, allowing his shoulders to slump in a manner he never would have gotten away with at home. He hadn't realized how relaxing it was not to hold yourself up at all times, to just let yourself relax and drift along occasionally. But still, he had issues at hand. He was in possession of a Deathnote, as were a minimum of at least two others, possibly three or more. Ryuk knew too little about the rules, or wasn't telling Raito all he did know, creating a large margin of error and unknown factors in the equation. Then there were the owners themselves, who he knew nothing about… not even who they were, or how they would react to his presence. And if they made the deal Ryuk had mentioned, it was possible that they might be able to tell he had a Deathnote just from looking at him, as well as the fact that they would know his name… All of which was problematic when a name and a face were all they needed to kill. And he could be completely unaware all the while, up until the moment of his death…

That didn't sit too well. No, not well at all.

Sighing, he pushed himself off the wall, walking over to stand in front of Ryuk. Eyeing the Shinigami critically, he felt the beginnings of a plan begin to form in his mind.

His life was in jeopardy, just when he was beginning to enjoy it. He was at an impasse with multiple unknown enemies, currently homeless, with no way to defend himself. It was quickly coming down to a kill or be killed situation.

But he wouldn't use the Deathnote. No, if he was going to kill someone, he'd do it with his own hands, thank you very much. He didn't plan on it coming down to that anyway. No, he would prefer the odds of caught or be caught.

He would just have to catch the other owner's of the Deathnotes first. He would find them, trick them, and take their notebooks. Then, he would be safe. Maybe he'd turn them into the police if he felt like it. Who knew, maybe he'd be feeling generous that day and let them walk away? It was his decision, in the end.

His decision. He liked that.

"Raito?"

Ryuk had noticed him staring. Well, no use in delaying the inevitable. If he was going to start hunting down the other "Shinigami," first thing came fist…

He was going to need some money.

"Ryuk, I don't suppose you've ever learned how to juggle?"

* * *

Soichiro Yagami was doing his very best not to think. He had been doing so for the last few weeks, and so far, had been very unsuccessful in the endeavor. After all, thinking was an important part of his job as a police officer. But… he just couldn't find it in himself to try and concentrate on work, on cases, on anything at the moment.

Anything but Raito. But he was trying hard not to think about that either. It hurt too much.

Because then he would start thinking, and wondering. Where was his son? Was he okay? Was he even alive? And he'd have to stop there, as his mind went numb, and he felt a buzzing inside his scull. Somehow, it almost sounded like the sound a heart monitor would make when there was no pulse, when they died, and it was all because he thought of Raito. Raito and the sound of a heart stopping because it was dead, and then - he'd just have to stop.

He had to stop thinking of Raito, and what might be happening to him at the moment. But not thinking of the Raito in the now led to thinking of the Raito in the past. His perfect son, and how proud he had been of all his accomplishments, his mind, his manners, his everything. His perfect son.

Bu then he'd wonder where he went wrong.

Had he not given Raito everything he needed? A home, food, education, clothes… everything a little boy could ever need? Had he not given him attention? Well… he had been at work most of the time, but whenever he was home he'd tell Raito how proud he was, and to keep up the hard work. Was that it? Had he been neglectful, or pushed Raito too hard? Was that what had gone wrong?

Then he'd wonder if it wasn't his profession, in the police. He was always getting into dangerous situations out on the field, or dealing with the paperwork and cleanup from the incidents if he wasn't. Or maybe it was that he put his family in danger, like that time they had been held hostage. The time the kidnapper had held his gun to little Raito's head, and those amber eyes had gone wide and blank in terror. But then the kidnapper was shot down, his son had landed in a pool of the man's blood, and-

"_Daddy, look at the butterfly!"_

-No, he wouldn't - couldn't - think about that. Because that was his child, there in that blood, smiling so sweetly like the little angel he was, and he hadn't been covered in blood, really he hadn't, just his hands…

No, he wasn't going there.

But he would ask himself, if perhaps he son was crazy. Maybe that's why he ran away. He had been in therapy, so much therapy, after all, for almost half his life…

And then he'd think, he'd think maybe that was what drove his son away. The endless sessions of therapy, week after week. His son got perfect grades, was wonderful and polite and popular, took such good care of the girls and never once showed an inclination towards violence, and still he was always in therapy. Because Soichiro insisted, because it frightened him just how flawless his son was, sometimes-

How sick was that? He was disturbed by the fact that there was nothing wrong with his son. And maybe that was it. There was nothing wrong with Raito, but he was still sent to therapy, continually told to speak his mind, tell people how he felt… always told there was something wrong with him, when maybe there was nothing wrong at all.

And maybe that had made something wrong with him.

Maybe what was meant to help had actually ended up hurting.

And Soichiro was going to kill himself wondering about all these _god damn maybes_ so maybe he should just stop…

Because he had to find his son. And he couldn't find his son if he couldn't stop thinking about his son. Though it was looking less and less likely that he was going to find his son because he didn't have time to try and find his son-

Because of the mysterious murders committed on live television, the deaths of over twenty anchors, hosts, and reporters. All heart attacks. All natural causes. That was what he should have been working on, while he was sitting here thinking about Raito, and the job, and the therapy, and the kidnapping, and the _god damn butterfly_-

Stop.

* * *

"So, who all are you writing down anyway? Friends, family, the little old lady with all the cats that lives down the block?"

Takada glanced back at the Shinigami, far from amused. The creature really did have the worst sense of humor, and it's laugh was like fingernails being scraped down a polished blackboard. In other words, not a pleasant sound to be exposed to.

Still, she would have to humor it, as long as she wanted to use it's notebook. Oh, excuse her, not IT, _HIS _name was Deridovely, thank you very much, as she was reminded on a constant basis. She didn't understand how anyone could give a rather pretty and elegant name to the conglomeration of skin and ugly standing behind her, being as irritating as possible.

She couldn't really decide which was more annoying. Deridovely's laugh, or the crunch of the celery sticks it insisted upon eating. She had been under the impression Gods didn't need to eat to survive, but then again, she had been wrong before… rarely, but it had happened.

"Uh…" Deridovely was above her now, leaning over the Deathnote and looking at all the names she had written down. "If you don't mind me asking… why are all the names you've written down so far guys? I don't see a girl name among them…"

"Because men are stuck up pigs who have ruined this world and its future." Takada answered easily, having thought the same thing enough times to know the phrase by heart. "That, and they make up most of the violent crime offenders in today's society, including rape, torture, murder… you take your pick."

"So… what does that have to do with anything?"

Takada rolled her eyes. It was typical that she was stuck with the ugliest, most irritating, and STUPID Shinigami she could imagine. Really, it was just her luck. "I'm not killing them just because they're men you know."

"You're not?"

Heaven give her patience… "No, I'm killing them because they are perpetrators of violent crimes and deserve to die for their actions. That's why I'm killing them."

"But why?"

She blinked, taken aback. "Isn't it obvious? The world is an ugly place, and thanks to people like this-" she gestured to the notebook in front of her, "-it only continues to get uglier and uglier. And personally, I cannot abide ugly things."

"So, you're… cleaning the world up, so to speak?"

"So to speak." Takada allowed herself a small smile at the Shinigami, her eyes wide and full of idealism and hope. "After the scum has been removed, the world will be clean and free to flourish. A world composed only of good people, can you imagine? It will be… a paradise." She sighed, her eyes slipping closed at the thought, bright dreams and delusions playing through her head.

"And if I happen to rule over the new world, as the one who created it… who's to say that isn't the way it should be in the first place?"

She did her best to ignore the eerie note in the Shinigami's laugh, the one that seemed to make promises, promises she didn't want to see kept.

* * *

L was not amused. No, not amused at all, in the least, the slightest bit, even a tiny little smidgeon on a smidgeon of humor was present in him at the time.

Because there were no damn clues. No gives. No proof. No _anything_. Hell, other than the fact that so many death's on live television couldn't be just a coincidence, he couldn't even prove that what was going on was MURDER.

It was all rather frustrating. And daunting. Yes, it was daunting as well. Because this was one hell of a case, one L really wanted to solve, and so far…

He had zero concrete evidence to go upon. It didn't even make sense! Why would somebody suddenly come out and kill so many people on live television? Where was the motive? Hell, if it were a power play, L would understand, but so far no person, no organization, no nobody had come forward and taken credit for the murders.

Which led L to believe it had been a spontaneous action. But how the hell could it be? Who could suddenly decide one day to kill all those people - for no good reason - and just be able to do it? Just like that. A mass epidemic of heart attacks. Too many to be coincidence, yet all of them natural, according to the autopsies. Autopsies done by L's own people, so he knew no one had been bribed or corrupt in the process. It wasn't just impossible, it was _infuriating._

And now L was stuck in the monotonous task of reviewing possible suspects from rival TV stations. All because he had no other lead to work on, other than the fact that the anchors killed had all been a part of the news genre and been vying for ratings with one another.

…Though, once he looked at the information, there was one station that looked suspicious. Sakura TV, a program right in the middle of the pack of other stations… And the one with the highest rating that hadn't had anyone killed. It was suspicious, nearly incriminating, since the other stations to suffer the attacks had been right around Sakura in ratings… and none had escaped without a death other than Sakura and local programs with ratings that were hardly competitive.

It was something to look into. Hell, it was all he had to look into.

He reached over, pressing the intercom button and speaking in his usual, unaffected tone.

"Watari?"

"Yes?"

"Get me the president of Sakura TV… Demegawa, I believe it is, on line one."

"Very good sir."

L brought his thumb to his mouth, staring at the screen before him as if fascinated, though it was doubtful whether he was seeing the screen at all. Rather, he was calculating how likely it was that Sakura TV had something to do with the mysterious string of media murders… at the moment, he was at 79 percent…

"Sir?"

He snapped out of his musings. "Yes Watari?"

"Demegawa is currently unavailable."

"Unavailable?" His brow furrowed. No one was ever to busy to talk with L when he demanded it. It just didn't happen.

He was THE L, after all.

"Dead, sir."

"What?!" L's mind flew in circles around the notion… dead? "Was it a heart attack?" But why would Demegawa be killed? When all the other victims had been the actual faces on the television screen, not the business men behind them?

"No sir."

"Then when? How?"

"The same night as the heart attacks. He didn't die of cardiac arrest though. The autopsy and evidence at the scene shows that he was going down the company stairs, when he tripped and fell. His neck was broken on the way down. They found his body the next morning."

"Yes…" L said slowly. "Thank you, Watari." He cut the connection, he thumb moving back to his mouth and his eyes slit in thought. While it was possible that Demegawa's could have been a natural death, just a middle aged man taking a hard tumble and having rotten luck…

L wasn't going to bet on it. It was too odd that it should happen the same night as the media homicides, too inconsistent that it should happen in the one suspicious company he had found, and that it should be the president, not the anchor that was killed…

It stuck out like a sore thumb. There was something wrong with the equation, and it was all pointing to something at Sakura TV. The big question was why Demegawa? Why was he the one killed? L was willing to bet just about anything that it was because he knew something. Something the perpetrator hadn't wanted anyone else to know. Something incriminating, something that could lead to their arrest…

The killing method, perhaps?

L startled slightly as the intercom began beeping next to him in an urgent manner. Hitting the button, he was alarmed at Watari's slightly shocked and hurried tone.

"L, I have just been informed that in the last hour or so, internationally, thirty three prisoners convicted of violent crimes have all dropped dead, each in their cells, under watch, and none with any contact outside their cell whatsoever. At first their deaths were discounted as due to natural causes, but the theory was quickly thrown away due to the fact that they all died of-"

"Heart attacks." L finished for him, eyes wide and body still.

Well.

That complicated things a bit.

* * *

**Misa had been staring at the TV screen, that intent, almost wild look on her face for exactly forty minutes and eleven seconds.**

**Rem would know. She had counted.**

**Not that she blamed the girl for her shock or fear, because it was a bit of a surprise to Rem herself. Just a few nights ago new reporters and hosts had begun dropping dead like flies on live television, and now it seemed as though criminals were following the same trend.**

**And her, other Shinigami, their Deathnote holders, and Misa were likely the only one's who knew why. Which was why the girl was practically in a state of panic.**

"**I… I don't like this Rem." Her eyes were wide, and so, so innocent as she watched the flashing images on the screen. Personally, Rem couldn't stand watching the television. She wasn't sure if other Shinigami had the same problem, but her eyesight was strong enough that she could see the individual frames flash, no matter how fast the picture was broadcast. It made the images seem disjointed and broken by flashes of bright light, which only managed to give the Shinigami one hell of a headache.**

**But her thoughts shouldn't be wandering right now. Misa was frightened, and for whatever reason, that… troubled Rem. Troubled her enough that she wanted to stop Misa from being frightened, fix whatever was wrong in the world that was causing that look upon her young, mortal face.**

**And the fact that she felt like that… was also troubling.**

**It was all so confusing. But she had a feeling it always was, with humans.**

"**What don't you like, Misa?"**

**The girl bit her lip. "Well, I can't really say… that I don't like the fact that they're using the Deathnote, because I did that as well." There was a flash of guilt in her bright eyes, but only for a moment. "But I only used it once, and it was on the man that murdered my parents. I guess you could say that, er, I don't like the way they're using the Deathnotes. And I'm thinking I probably won't like the why, either."**

"**I can understand that viewpoint with the deaths of the men on the news, but what about the ones of the criminals now?" Rem asked, tilting her head to the side. "Isn't it the same as what you did, in killing the man who murdered your parents? Punishment?"**

"**No! It's not the same at all Rem!" Misa's eyes were passionate as her voice was raised, almost bristling with anger. "That was personal! The way this person is killing, so many people, all so… so…" She seemed at a loss for words, her cheeks turning pink. "It's not the same! It's like this person thinks they're God or something! That they have a right to judge everyone!"**

**That… made a sort of sense, she supposed. It probably made more sense to humans. She was a Shinigami after all… she didn't judge in her kills, she just killed to survive. It didn't matter who it was, or when. But, it would be different for a human to kill a human, rather than a Shinigami. Human's weren't doing it to survive, for one.**

**They were just doing it because they **_**could.**_

**And maybe that made all the difference.**

* * *

Ryuk was coming along nicely, Raito decided. He had mastered the weave juggle, and now Raito was working on teaching him the cascade. It had only taken a few days as well. Ryuk attributed it to Shinigami superiority to humans.

Raito gave credit to the Shinigami having proper incentive. Namely, if he did well enough, Raito would steal him apples. And if he did poorly enough, well…

It hadn't come to that point yet, but Raito promised Ryuk that he would regret it if it did.

Ryuk, wisely, believed him.

And now, today was there first experiment. Last night, Raito had gone to the park, found the public fountain, and done his best to wash up, despite the fact that the water had been_ freezing_. It had been unpleasant, but now he looked, if not completely presentable, at least inoffensive to most tastes.

As he would need to be. Currently in the public park, he was looking for the best spot, one where he could attract plenty of people (hopefully rich ones), and where he would be visible to a large crowd. Finally choosing a small area, one not far from the very fountain he had bathed in only hours before, he took out the three oranges he had managed to pilfer for his little scheme.

And he began to juggle. Just a regular weave, nothing special. He had a hat he had fond a few nights before set out in front of him, and was hoping that it would be full of money by the end of the day. In only a few minutes there were a few children and there parents gathered around, watching him, but they were quickly loosing interest.

It was time to begin the real act.

Throwing the balls up high in the air, he took a step back, letting his arms fall to his sides. To anyone else, it would seem as though the fruit was going to fall to the ground, be squished on the cobblestones, and the show would be over. Only Raito saw Ryuk move into place under the oranges, eyes narrowed in concentration. One by one the oranges fell down.

And one by one they were thrown back up, by a creature invisible to all but Raito. He reveled in the gasps of the children and their parents as they watched the oranges being juggled in empty air, smiling as though he knew what was going on, that it was all part of the act and going by plan. Which it was, but they had no idea how.

It wasn't long before he had an entire crowd gathered around. And Raito couldn't help but feel a bit amused as Ryuk began to be pulled into the whole performance gig. He began showing off, throwing the balls higher, stretching out his wings and flying around with them every which way, delighting the grownups and children alike.

The hat was filled within an hour.

Needless to say, Ryuk got his apples.

* * *

A/N: Holy crap everyone, sorry this update took so long, you wouldn't believe all the shit that's gone down. First, my computer cord broke, and the only replacements I could find in town were, I dunno EIGHTY DOLLARS. That's what I get for living in Wyoming, aka, the middle of boofoo fucking nowhere. So, as my computer's battery ran out and I found myself unable to do anything, I had my dad order one online for twenty bucks. Only, my dad is a retard and didn't check to see where exactly he was ordering it from.

Namely, Hong Kong.

I really hate my dad sometimes.

So it took nearly a MONTH to get here, and I was ever so elated, when disaster struck. I now have a lovely little scar where my appendix used to be. Yay me. XP

Anyway, to top it all off, I went on vacation for a week and had to leave my laptop behind, These last few days I've worked double shifts, and now my beta's computer is on the fritz, so this chapter hasn't been edited.

I'm tired and life sucks.

So yeah, try not to hate me too much, I really didn't mean for this to happen. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and believe me, there will be a TON of updating the next few weeks in an attempt to make up for the long drought.

As always, reviews make me very happy, and would really be appreciated, since right now I am a very sad panda.

And just to tell you, my oneshot Blossoming White is done, and will be posted very soon.

Seizure.


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